


Anonymously Yours

by mihomi98



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:30:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 54,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihomi98/pseuds/mihomi98
Summary: saving as draft





	Anonymously Yours

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anonymously Yours

Rebekah Blackmore

 

 

1

 

It was official, moving back to her hometown was the _wors_ t decision of Corrine McDowell's life. She had thought it would cheer her up after her latest break up, being back around her family and the things that used to bring her joy, but in her delusion, she had forgotten the reason why she had moved away in the first place.

“Mom! I told you my spare key was only for emergencies, not for you to do a little 'tidying up'!” she scolded into her phone, kicking the doorway in-between her living room and kitchen. “I just got everything where I want it, and now I can't find anything!” She opened up one of her kitchen cabinets and groaned, pulling down the bath towels that her mother had placed there before shoving her coffee mugs back where she wanted them.

Her mother let out a frustrated gasp. “I was just trying to help! You would have broken your neck climbing onto those counters everyday!” Corrine could hear her father laughing in the background. “I know you and Billie did things differently, but honey, you need to be looking towards the future! Organizing your kitchen to look like your ex-girlfriend's house is only going to set you back, and you only just arrived back in town!

Corrine groaned and walked over to the center island, sitting on one of the stools next to her counter and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Thanks, Mom.” She took a deep breath before sitting up, moving her hand down to tap her nails against the counter. “Look, I have to go reorganize this mess, but I'll text you later, okay? No more coming over if I’m not home.”

“Okay, sweetheart, but please remember to put all the breakables away―”

“Okay, Mom. I love you.”

“Yes, yes, I love you too, but make sure you _always_ turn the oven off when you leave the house―”

“Bye, Mom.”

“―and don't leave your knives lying around―”

“Good _bye_ , Mom.”

Corrine jabbed the “end call” button and dropped her phone on the counter, putting her head in her hands again and groaning. She really _had_ just set up her apartment the exact way she wanted it, and if it echoed how Billie's was set up, well, it was no one's business but her own.

Corrine stood up and went out into the living room, scratching her tortoise-shell kitten on the head where it was sunbathing on the windowsill. She grabbed her keys off the hook next to the door and stuffed a few dollars from the key bowl into her pocket. She knew it was petty, but now that she knew that her mother had been there mulling around, she wanted to get away. She could deal with reorganizing the kitchen (and likely the bathroom, too) when she got home.

Living close to her parents may have been stressful, but she couldn't deny that it was nice to be close to her favorite ice cream restaurant from when she was a child. It was a tiny, run-of-the-mill mom and pop shop, and it was run by two of the strangest people in the entire county, but its quirks were what made it so memorable.

Corrine pulled into the parking lot and backed into a spot, tapping her hands on the steering wheel a few times before shutting her car off and getting out. She tossed her messenger bag over her shoulder and went inside, a sense of relief filling her as she took a look around the shop. It hadn’t changed a bit in the last twenty years, the light-green paisley wallpaper still pressed against the walls and the iron chairs spread around marble tables.

She made her way around the customers already in the store towards the front, where a teenage boy with dark-brown hair and acne scars was leaning against the counter, texting idly and chewing bubble gum like a cow chewing its cud. He glanced up as Corrine reached the counter, letting out a loud sigh before straightening up. “Can I help you?” he asked, shoving his phone into his back pocket and setting his jaw.

Corrine raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her stomach, glancing down at his name tag. His name was Patrick. “I'll take a double scoop of chocolate-cherry on a sugar cone,” she said, moving a hand up to twirl a strand of hair, “with a scoop of dark chocolate-toffee to go.”

Patrick scribbled the order onto a piece of scrap paper and worked the total out. “Four-ninety.”

Corrine pulled her wallet out of her wallet and counted out the exact change, handing it to the boy. He took it and jabbed his finger against the register screen, popping his gum loudly and letting out a quiet belch.

“Patrick!” a woman from the back of the shop scolded before stepping into the space behind the counter, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes as Patrick scooped Corrine's order into the proper containers. Patrick rolled his eye and worked silently, popping his gum again as he handed Corrine the ice cream.

Corrine took her order and made to a table, sitting down and eating her ice cream cone as she studied the woman, who was now lecturing Patrick (her son, evidently, if her stern words were any indication) about his lack of customer service skills.

It took Corrine nearly half of her ice cream cone before she recognized the woman as Mary Doven, the daughter of the ice cream shop's owners, Jack and Darlene Doven. Sue had silvery-blonde hair and spray-tanned skin, and was wearing a neon-pink tracksuit. Her outfit wasn't nearly as outlandish as her mother wore (her hats put the women at the Kentucky Derby to shame), but it was still incredibly attention-grabbing.

Corrine watching the pair for a moment more before pulling out her phone and tapping apps idly, opening and closing them without paying much attention to what she had touched. Her ice cream was beginning to melt down the edges of the cone, so she moved it closer to her mouth to keep from making too much of a mess.

It only took Corrine a few minutes to finish the ice cream, the remnants of the chocolate on her taste buds and her stomach full. She put her phone back into her purse ad stood up, making sure not to forget her to-go cup. She went back to her car and put the ice cream in the cup holder before starting her car. She glanced around the parking lot before beginning to back out of the space, stopping when her phone started to ring. She put the car back in park and opened her purse, grabbing her phone and staring at it in confusion. It was a local number, one she vaguely recognized, but one she could not attach to a name.

Warily, she answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this still Corrine McDowell's phone number?”

“Uhm, yes? Who's this?” She put her foot on the seat and propped her knee against the steering wheel, slouching down into the cushion.

There was a squeal on the other line. “Corrie! It's me, Allison Gray!”

Corrine's eyes widened. Allison had been her best friend from kindergarten until senior graduation. They had sworn to one another that they would stay best friends even with living hundreds of miles apart, but life quickly got in the way, and their twice-weekly phone calls dwindled down to once per week, then every two weeks, then once a month, until Corrine couldn't even remember when the last time she had heard from her best friend had been. Once college ended (and it had been more than two years since Corrine and Allison had spoke), Corrine got a new phone, and she didn't think twice about not transferring Allison's number to the new device.

“Allison, hi! How have you been?” she asked after a moment of silence, her heartbeat quickening and her breathing growing shallow. “It's, well, it's been a while since we've talked.” Her voice was shaking.

“It's been even longer since we've seen each other.”

“Heh, yeah.” Corrine reached up and ran her hand through her hair, wincing when her ring tangled with her scarlet curls. She wasn't sure why she felt so nervous, but there was a growing pit in the base of her stomach.

The pit grew even bigger when Allison laughed and said, “Look to your left, Corrie-girl. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.”

Corrine did as she was asked, her eyes widening as she saw Allison leaning against a car across the parking lot in a pair of skinny jeans and a black blazer, her perfect white-blonde hair barely brushing the top of her shoulders. Her smile grew and she waved.

“Get out of your car and come see me, silly!” she said, gesturing with her head back towards the green Ford Focus. “Don't make me come get you!”

Corrine breathed in and nodded, forcing a smile of her own before getting out of the car and making her way across the parking lot. Her nerves grew as she walked, making her palms sweat and her lip quiver as she reached her friend. Allison immediately pulled her into a hug, letting out an excited squeal as she pulled her close.

“I've missed you so much!” Allison exclaimed, pulling back and stepping out of the hug.

Corrine took another step back, the nerves finally starting to fade as she remembered just what it was about Allison that always made Corrine feel so safe, so comfortable. Whenever her anxiety got bad (and it could get _bad_ ), Allison could always make it better with her bubbling personality and loud, attention-grabbing voice. “I missed you, too. What have you been up to the last few years?”

“Oh, more than I explain in one meeting! Do you have time to grab a bite or something? Go get a coffee?”

Corrine looked down at her watch. Technically, she had all day free, but she hadn't really been planning on spending time with anyone other than her cat. Still, though, it _had_ been years. “Sure, I guess I can do that. What did you have in mind?”

 

***

 

Two hours later, Corrine was feeling _much_ better, her head spinning as she finished drinking her third margarita. She didn't normally day-drink, but there was something about these margaritas that were music to Corrine's taste buds.

As the waitress walked by, Corrine lifted her glass and gave her a smile. “Hey, beautiful, I'd like to order another one, please. These are fantastic.”

The waitress gave Corinne a tight smile and nodded, taking the empty glasses off the table and putting them on her tray. Allison waited for the girl to walk away before snorting, taking a sip of her own margarita. “Damn, Cor, you goin' to ask her for her number after all the pet names you've been calling her?”

Corrine blushed. “I'm just being nice,” she said, pulling on a curl and twisting it around her finger. “Besides, who needs new numbers when you have old friends?”

“Someone who needs to get laid.” Allison winked and giggled again, her gaze moving pointedly between Corrine and the bar. “Don't look now but she hasn't stopped staring over here since she walked away. I think you have an admirer.”

Corrine couldn't help but grin at the thought, even if she _did_ think that Allison was reading too much into things. She had to admit, the girl really was cute. She was petite both in size and in stature, and had dark black-and-violet hair. Corrine wasn't sure what her eyes looked like, but she was sure they had to be gorgeous, too.

When Corrine looked back over at the bar, however, the girl was gone. She looked around the restaurant, but she was nowhere to be found.

She pouted and slouched down in her chair, her arms crossed over her stomach. Well, she probably didn't really have a chance scoring a girl her first week back in town, anyway. Sure, it would have been nice, but it clearly wasn't meant to be.

It took a moment, but soon Allison realized that the girl was missing, too. “Damn. I really thought you had a chance with that girl. She seemed really into you, and my gaydar is almost _never_ wrong.”

Corrine shrugged. “Well, you had to be wrong about something, sometime.” A new waitress came by and dropped off Corrine's drink. She picked it up and put the straw in her mouth, but it no longer seemed to taste as magical as it did before. She tried it again before making a face, putting the glass back down. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, taking out a few bills and putting the money down on the table. “I should get going. All those boxes aren't going to unpack themselves.”

Allison straightened up and got her own money out, taking another long drink before putting her own glass down. “Are you sure you're good to drive? You had a lot more than I did.”

Corrine waved her hand. “I'm fine, Allie, really. I only had three and a half, it wasn't even that much alcohol. Besides, I only live ten minutes away.”

Allison nodded, but she didn't look entirely convinced. “Okay, if that's what you want to do. Text me when you get home?”

“Will do.”

Both of the women stood up and made their way out of the restaurant. Corrine, unfortunately, was really starting to feel the effects of her drinks, her limbs feeling a bit like they were made of lead. Her mind, however, was still intact, and she didn't question whether or not what she had told Allison was the truth or not.

When Corrine got out to her car, however, she began to wonder if maybe she really was more intoxicated than she thought, or if someone had slipped something into her drink. There was no way she was really seeing a full-size dragon and someone's phone number written all over her windshield and side windows.

“What in the world?” she wondered aloud, nudging Allison with her hand and pointing at the display. Allison cocked her head as she looked at it, her eyes narrowing in confusion before she pulled her phone out and began to jab at the screen.

After a few minutes, Allison shook her head. “It's not a number I recognize,” she said, tilting her phone and showing Corrine the lack of results.

Corrine pursed her lips and took her own phone out. Just like Allison, there were no results. Regardless, she saved the number before tucking her phone back into her purse. “I guess it's nothing, then. It's not like anyone here would know what car is mine.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right. Just a mistake, then?”

“Yeah.” She let out a breath through her nose and shrugged her shoulders, pulling her purse closer to her body. She reached over and squeezed Allison's hand before unlocking her car and getting in. She sighed and rolled down her widows, turning on her front and rear windshield wipers to get as much of the window paint as she could.

By the time Corrine could properly see out the window, nearly twenty minutes had gone by, and she was _really_ starting to feel how relaxed the alcohol had made her. She could fall asleep just sitting there.

It looked like it was time to go home.

 

 

 

 

2

“Sydney! I wasn't expecting you home so soon!”

Sydney Cortazan looked at her roommate, McKenzie, as she stumbled out of her bedroom and into the living room of their shared apartment, a long tee-shirt thrown on haphazardly and her hair a complete mess. Sydney raised an eyebrow at her. “It's Wednesday, Kenz. I always get off work at three-thirty on Wednesday.”

“But it's only―” McKenzie went silent as she looked at the wall clock in the living room. “Oh. I guess the clock in my room is broken then.” Her cheeks turned dark-pink as she looked back at Sydney, smiling sheepishly. “Any chance you'll go away and come back in a few hours?” Sydney didn't answer. McKenzie sighed. “Fine, fine, we will be quiet.”

Sydney snorted and shook her head. McKenzie was _never_ quiet with her lovers, but it was especially bad with this new girl she had been seeing. “Okay, Kenz. Whatever you say.”

McKenzie turned around and walked back into her room, the lock of the door _click_ ing behind her. Sure enough, a full minute had barely gone by when the sounds of McKenzie's voice echoed around the apartment. Sydney shook her head and went into her own bedroom, turning on her radio to drown out the noise and collapsing on top of her bed.

Work really had sucked, and Sydney was exhausted. Two of her coworkers had called in sick, the soda machine kept spitting out water instead of soft drinks, and the other two waitresses on her shift were too busy flirting with the firemen at table seven to help serve customers.

The only saving grace was, at the end of her shift, she realized that she was parked next to her manager's new car. They had become pretty good friends over the three years that Sydney had worked at _La Bella Flo_ r and enjoyed playing pranks on one another, so Sydney grabbed her window markers out of her car and set to work on sketching a dragon across the front windshield and the side windows, the tail ending only inches away from where the mouth had started. She didn't add a ton of detail (her manager was set to be off at 15:45), but she made sure to scrawl her phone number below the rear left foot. She wasn't sure where the phone number thing had begun, but it was something that they each almost always added.

Sydney chuckled as she thought about the other pranks that Kate and she had played on one another over the years. They had never done anything _bad_ , per say, but they sometimes did manage to get out of hand, like the time Sydney had submerged Kate's wallet (it was well-wrapped and protected, so neither it nor its surroundings were contaminated) in a large vat of chicken-and-rice soup, or when Kate replaced _every single contact_ in Sydney's phone (oh, so _that's_ where the phone number thing started) with the poop emoji.

With that thought in mind, Sydney realized that she needed to charge her phone if there was any chance of her using it out of her bedroom. She had more than one charger, but for some reason, they all _only_ seemed to work in the outlet behind her bed. She plugged it in and put it on the night table, letting out a loud groan and throwing her arm over her eyes.

She was nearly asleep when she heard her phone vibrating. She groaned again and reached over, clicking and holding the “power” button until it powered down, the only light coming from the glowing red battery. She pulled her pillow out from under her head and pressed it against her face, inhaling the smell of her laundry detergent before rolling over and resting her cheek against it.

The softness of her mattress and the darkness from her black-out curtains was quickly lulling Sydney to sleep. She didn't particularly like sleeping during the day (it felt like a waste of time) but today, she couldn't find anything more appealing than getting a couple hours of shut-eye.

She pulled the blankets up closer to her chin and turned on her heated blanket, shivering as her body adjusted to the change in temperature.

She was out within minutes.

 

***

 

By the time Sydney woke up, the room was submerged in complete darkness, the usual millimeter stretch of light that flowed along the edge of the curtains nothing more than a shadow. She glanced over at her alarm clock, her eyes widening as she saw that five hours had passed since she had laid down.

 _Guess I was more tired than I thought_ , Sydney realized, letting out a big yawn as she turned her blanket off and turned to the side to get off the bed. She ran her fingers through her hair and stood up, wincing as gravity made her bladder throb. She tightened her thighs and went to the bathroom adjacent to her room, letting out a contented sigh as she relieved herself.

Once she was done, Sydney quickly stripped out of her clothing and turned on the shower, turning the knob until she could barely see through the steam. She climbed in, the water pounding against her sore muscles and making her feel sleepy again.

Sydney stayed in the shower until her hands and feet were wrinkled before getting out and pulling on her most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a worn tee-shirt.

Once she was dressed, Sydney went into the kitchen, hoping that her roommate had made dinner to apologize for her less than ideal homecoming. It was a common agreement between the girls that if one of them walked in and interrupted something, then the offending party would apologize by either cooking or ordering dinner.

Fortunately, it looked like McKenzie had stuck with the agreement and had ordered Chinese food. There was a cling-wrapped plate on the second shelf that was piled high with white rice and sweet-and-sour chicken, an egg roll and a crab Rangoon in a Ziploc placed on top.

Sydney warmed the meal up before going back into her room and logging in to her computer, pulling up her Netflix and starting a movie. She took a few bites before leaning the chair back and grabbing her phone, powering it back on and lying it down besides the laptop while she ate.

Her phone was several years past being outdated, so it took until she was nearly done with her supper before it vibrated with new texts. She ate the last few bites and put the plate on the ground, unlocking her phone and going to her messages.

There was a text from McKenzie about dinner and two from a coworker, who was asking to switch shifts to go to her nephew's second grade play, as well as two messages from a number that was not registered in her phone. She furrowed her brows and opened the mystery message.

_From: XXX-XXX-9928 (Received 09.05.2018. 17:53) I have no idea who you are. Why did you draw on my car?_

_From: XXX-XXX-9928 (Received 09.05.2018. 18:02) The dragon was beautiful, though. You did a great job on it._

Sydney rolled her eyes. It wasn't unusual at all for Kate to play dumb after Sydney had a spectacular win in the prank-war. She leaned back in her desk chair and rested her elbows against the armrests. _From: Me (Sent 09.05.2018. 22:56) What can I say, I couldn't let you get a new car without spicing it up some ;)_

She paused her movie and picked up her laptop, moving back onto her bed and snuggling into her heated blanket. She resumed her movie and situated herself against the pillows, jumping slightly when she felt her phone vibrate against her knee.

Sydney looked down at the text. It was the same mystery number as before. _From: XXX-XXX-9928 (Received 09.05.2018. 23:02) I don't know what you're talking about, I don't have a new car? I've had mine for like nine years?_

Again, Sydney rolled her eyes. Kate was taking it too far this time. _From: Me (Sent 09.05.2018. 23:07) I was with you when you bought it, Kate._

She hit send before typing out another message. _From: Me (Sent 09.05.2018. 23:08) Whose phone did you steal, anyway? I don't have this number saved._

She sent the message and stared at the phone, but when no response came back through for several minutes, Sydney shrugged and put the phone back on her nightstand before going picking up her computer and queuing up her movie. She leaned back and rested her head against the wall, peering down over her nose while she waited for it to load. It was taking ages so she kept herself entertained in other ways instead, crossing and uncrossing her eyes and pursing her lips at her reflection in the screen.

Sydney wasn't used to being up this late, and honestly, she couldn't say that it was very exciting. She grabbed a bottle of Benadryl out from her nightstand drawer and pulled out four pills, tossing them into her mouth and washing them down with her drink. It would still be another hour or so before the pills kicked in, but at least she now had an end in sight.

Before Sydney was able to get much further into her movie, however, she was interrupted by a knock on her door. “Come in!” she called out, lying her laptop back down on the bed and pushing her blankets off her lap. She looked up as the door opened.

McKenzie stepped into the room, her hair a mess and her cheeks a dark red. There were hickeys lining the length of her neck, and Sydney could see deep scratch marks reaching over her shoulder even from her spot on the bed.

Sydney snorted. “Wow, Kenz, did you fuck a wild animal or what?”

McKenzie rolled her eyes, her cheeks turning from red to purple. “There's nothing wrong with exotic sex, Sydney. Like Lady Gaga said, 'if it's not rough it isn't fun'.” She stuck her tongue out. “Besides, I came in here to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with me and Arlie, but if you're going to be like that . . . ”

“Oh, you're with Arlie again, are you?” Sydney teased, putting her feet on the floor and slipped her flip flops on. “That's, what, the third, fourth time you guys have hung out?”

“It's been three months, actually.”

“Mmm.” Sydney nodded and crinkled her nose. “Have to say, I'm surprised she's lasted this long. She's way out of your league.” She winked.

McKenzie rolled her eyes. “Okay, Casanova, let's get you a girlfriend then you can talk shit on mine.” She grabbed a pillow off Sydney's desk and chucked it at it.

Sydney (surprisingly) snatched the pillow out of the air before it had time to hit her face. She put it on her lap and hugged it. “Seriously though, Kenz, I'm happy for you. Arlie seems really nice.”

McKenzie smiled. “Yeah, she really is. So, are you coming with us or not? The Freeze is only open until midnight tonight, I guess they're remodeling or something.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Sydney got up and followed McKenzie to the living room. She waved at Arlie, who was lounging on the couch, as she walked in. “How's it going, Arlington?” she asked, spinning around twice on her heels before collapsing to the couch next to the girl.

Arlie shook her head at the nickname. “A bit tired, but good overall. How are you?”

“Ready for some damn ice cream.” Sydney stood up and held her hand out to help Arlie up. Arlie accepted the offer and allowed herself to be pulled up before going over and snuggling against McKenzie’s side. Sydney grabbed the car keys off the coffee table and tossed them to McKenzie. “You drive, Kenz. I'd rather not chauffeur my way to the ice cream shop while you two fuck in my back seat. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Oh, you know you love it.” McKenzie stuck her tongue out in Sydney's direction, but headed towards the door with her keys anyway. “Arlie gets shotgun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sydney waited until Arlie and McKenzie had linked hands and walked out the front door of the apartment before following behind them. She rolled her eyes as the sounds of the girls flirting drifted back to her ears. She had to admit that they were cute together, but they were so damn _mushy_.

Once the trio had gotten into the car, Sydney attached the belt buckle in the middle of the backseat before rotating her hips, kicking her feet up onto the seat and pressing her back into the door. She shut her eyes and tapped her fingers against her thigh to the sound of the radio, her mouth beginning to water as she thought about what kind of ice cream she was going to eat. She had many, _many_ favorites depending on her mood, but this late at night, everything sounded good. Mocha chocolate chip, chocolate cherry, green tea, spumoni, rocky road . . . and those were just the _normal_ flavors. Durian, maple bacon, and dill pickle topped her list for the obscure.

Sydney's apartment was only a few blocks away from the ice cream shop, so within minutes of getting in the car she was at the counter, chewing on her lip as she tried to decide what flavor to get.

By the time Sydney had decided on a double scoop of spumoni and rocky road in a dish, Arlie and McKenzie were already halfway done with their single-scoop cups (cookie dough and lavender, respectively). Sydney pulled out a chair next to Arlie and sat down, letting out a small, happy moan as the taste of the pistachio portion of the spumoni hit her taste buds. She had had authentic spumoni before, but she couldn't deny that she enjoyed the Americanized version more. The Freeze made their ice cream from scratch at the beginning of each week, and she swore that she could taste the talent and passion going in to every flavor.

Sydney took another bite (this time with the flavors combined) before holding the cup out. “Do you guys want to try some? It tastes freaking amazing today.”

McKenzie shook her head but Arlie accepted the offer, reaching her spoon out and trying all of the flavors at once. She put the spoon in her mouth, her eyes lighting up. “Wow! That is amazing.” She dropped her spoon back in her own cup and leaned over to kiss McKenzie on the cheek before standing. “I'm going to grab a container of that spumoni to go.”

McKenzie watched Arlie go to the counter before turning back to Sydney. “What do you think of her?” she asked softly, pressing her hands together and putting them between her knees nervously.

Sydney glanced at Arlie. “She's definitely cute, I'll give you that much, and like I said earlier, she seems nice. Why?”

“Just curious.” McKenzie took another bite of her ice cream before putting it away. “It's just . . . I really like her, Sydney.”

“And she seems to really like you. What's the problem?”

McKenzie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Arlie walked back over to the table with two containers. She handed one to McKenzie (watermelon or strawberry, it looked like) before putting her own container in her bag. She sat down and started back in on her cookie dough ice cream. Sydney ate more than half of her own ice cream in the time that it look Arlie to finish, but McKenzie didn't take another bite.

After a few minutes, Sydney broke the silence. “So, Arlie, McKenzie told me you just got your masters in zoology. What was your favorite thing to study? Reptiles, mammals? Do you like fish?”

Arlie grinned. “Herptiles, all the way.”

“Herptiles?”

“Reptiles.” She took the last bite of her ice cream and set the empty cup on the table, reaching down and taking McKenzie's hand. “I did my thesis on the migration patterns of different kinds of rattlesnakes, but my true loves are Axolotls. Those aren't reptiles, though.”

Sydney sniggered uncomfortably. “Okay, you've lost me. What the hell is an Axolotls? That does even _sound_ real.”

“Oh, it's―”

“As thrilling as this conversation sounds, ladies, it's closing time. You'll have to continue this conversation elsewhere.”

Sydney looked up to see a young man with a lip piercing leaning his arm against a broom next to the table, tapping his foot impatiently and raising a three-ringed eyebrow. “Didn't you hear me? I just said that we are closing up. I need you to _move_ so I can sweep under your table.”

Sydney rolled her eyes at the man's blatant unfriendliness before standing. “Come on, you guys, we can finish our ice cream at home. Arlie, you coming with?”

The other two girls stood, but McKenzie shook her head before Arlie could answer. “No, I have presentations in the morning and I need to rest or I won't be alert when I watch them.”

Arlie gave McKenzie a hurt look, but she didn't argue. All three walked back to the car, although the carefree atmosphere was gone. Sydney got into the back seat again, but there was no music this time, and neither Arlie nor McKenzie was talking.

The two were even silent when Arlie got out of the car, forgoing their usual kiss goodbye and promises to text one another in the morning. Sydney waited for Arlie to get up to the front door before climbing over the center console and into the front seat. “Okay, what the hell was that about?” she asked, buckling in and angling her body towards her friend. “She clearly wasn't expecting to be staying at _her_ house tonight.”

McKenzie shrugged. “I really do have to get straight to bed when we get home. Freshmen biologists won't grade their own ramblings, you know.”

“Kenz, your students are fourteen. You don't need to 'get some sleep' in order to understand what they're saying―an untrained monkey could reproduce their presentations. What's really up?”

“I already told you, Sydney, there's nothing up! I just want to go to bed.”

“You can say that all you want, Kenz, but I've know you for ten years, I know when you're lying. I'm just saying―”

“I said I'm fine, okay?! That means I'm freaking fine!” McKenzie slapped the palm of her hand against the steering wheel.

Sydney raised an eyebrow. It was very unusual for McKenzie to snap at her that way. “Fine.” She turned and looked out the window, intermittently biting her bottom lip.

The drive home felt like it was taking hours instead of minutes, and when McKenzie parked the car, Sydney was bursting to leave the vehicle. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and started to walk across the parking lot. McKenzie stayed by the car, pulling her cigarettes out of her pocket and lighting one.

Sydney gave McKenzie one more withering look before going inside and up to her apartment.

Hopefully the rest of the night wouldn't suck.

 

 

3

The next morning, Corrine woke up with a _pounding_ headache. She hadn't had any more to drink after Allison and she parted ways, but she felt her body ache as astutely as it would have had she been hung-over. It had been stressful, moving halfway across the country, and she wasn’t as young as she used to be. Her back ached from the worn-out mattress that she had purchased her last year of college, her legs _still_ hurt from moving boxes, and she wasn’t sleeping nearly as much as she should be. She hadn’t been eating all that well, either.

She groaned and got out of bed, flinching when the icy chill of her hardwood floor crept through her threadbare socks and into her bones. She really needed to invest in some rugs for the apartment. Her old one had been furnished entirely with carpet (even the kitchen and the bathroom, which she never understood), so she had never had to worry about how cold her floors got.

She found her slippers and dragged her feet through the house, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she walked into the kitchen. She scooped out a bowl of food for her kitten before going to the adjacent counter and starting her coffee pot. “Morning, Scepter,” she said, tapping the kitten on the nose and scowling at it when it leapt forward and bit her knuckles, its tail wagging and its ears perking up as she tried to wrestle. Corrine let her play for a few bites and scratches before pulling her hand away and shaking it, the sting of Scepter's teeth and claws fading away almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Corrine moved the kitten off the counter, putting her down by the food bowl before going back to her coffee. She poured herself a mug and went into her office, sitting down at her computer and opening an Internet Explorer tab.

She had enough to money in her savings to last her around six months if she was careful, but she was already itching to get back into a normal routine. She didn't have any idea of what type of job she wanted (she had a communications degree and a philosophy minor; fat load of good _those_ had done her), but filling out applications never hurt anyone. Who knew, maybe she'd be lucky and find something quickly.

A quick search of online job boards showed that plenty of places were hiring, but there was nothing that really reached out to her. She could flip hamburgers, or mix ice cream, or sell sex toys, but none of those jobs were full-time. She needed a job that would support her _after_ her savings ran out, and cheap retail work just wasn’t going to cut it.

Corrine sighed and leaned against her hand, clicking open another link.

 _Oh_. This one sounded interesting. The ad was for an advertising agency just ten minutes away from her house. The agency's website was intriguing, all of the pages seemed to be well-maintained, and the application was pretty straight-forward.

Corrine breezed through the written responses and the personality test, and before she knew it, she had a confirmation email in her inbox that said her application was under review. She grabbed a notebook from the top drawer of the desk and scribbled down the name of the agency and the position before turning her attention back to her computer.

She scoured a few more pages of the job board before closing the browser, turning on her iTunes and getting out of her desk chair. If she was going to be productive in her career, it only made sense that she made herself be productive in her home, as well. She went over to the stack of boxes against the wall and opened the first one, taking out her collection of Keats poetry. She lined them up on her bookshelf, sorting them first in alphabetical order and then by color of the spine. She did the same with the second box (all her N _ancy Drew_ books) as well as the third ( _Harry Potter_ and other fantasy books) before moving on to her bell collection.

She had been gathering bells of all sorts since she was a child, and had built up quite the impressive collection. She had everything from plain glass to intricate stained glass, from ceramic sculptures to her favorite wood-carved ones. Her father had built her a corner cabinet for them before she left for college, and she still lined up her bells in the same order she had the very first time she had organized the shelves. He had burned an ivy-design on the insides of the cabinet, and created a mosaic design on the shelves with bits of the mirrors that he had broken trying to install them into the cabinet. The wood had been stained a dark-cherry oak color, and the wood burned shapes were outlined with a thin line of shimmery green paint.

Corrine folded up the boxes when she was done with them. Before she could move on to the next box (spare pillows and blankets), however, she heard the sound of a text message echo through the apartment. She put her scissors on the desk and wiped her hands on her pajama pants, making a chirping noise as she passed Scepter in the hallway.

Corrine went get to her night table and took her phone off the charger, pushing her hair behind her ear with one hand before unlocking her phone. She had three unread messages from her mom, as well as one that she had just received (and one from the night before) from the same unknown number that had been written on her windows.

She opened the messages from her mother first.

_From: Mom (Received 09.06.2018. 05:14) Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Your father wants to show you his new golf clubs._

_From: Mom (Received 09.06.2018. 07:11) I wish you'd answer me more often. Is there a way to show me if you read them? Mary said there was, but you know how I feel about that woman._

_From: Mom (Received 09.06.2018. 07:49) Corrine Aleah McDowell. Please call me when you wake up._

Corrine chuckled and shook her head at the messages, closing her eyes as she thought about her Aunt Mary. She was a technological _genius_ , but she and her sister had always been at odds. Marcia McDowell was more likely to take technological lessons from Helen Keller than she was take them from her sister.

Corrine responded. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 10:05) Morning, mom. I'll be there at six._

She sent the message before sending another one. _From: Me (Sent: 09.06.2018. 10:06) I know Aunt Mary already set that up on your phone mother. Don't undo shit just because Aunt Mary set it up._

Marcia responded almost immediately. _From: Mom (Received 09.06.2018. 10:08) She lives! And I didn't I do anything, your Aunt Mary didn't know how to set it up. Do it tonight for me please._

Corrine rolled her eyes and backed out of the conversation. She moved on to the unknown number, her brows furrowing as she read the two messages.

She looked at the one from the night before, the one that had come in after she had fallen back asleep. _From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.05.2018. 23:08) Whose phone did you steal, anyway? I don't have this number saved._

Really? _That's_ what the mystery-number was asking her? _They_ were the one who defaced _her_ property, not the other way around. She looked up at the previous messages, growing even more confused. She _definitely_ wasn't someone named “Kate,” nor did she had a new car.

“Kate” could be, however, who the drawing was intended for. Corrine pursed her lips and glanced back down at her phone, reading the new message from the mystery number.

_From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.06.2018. 09:58) Kate Kate Katie Kate Kate! Why aren't you answering me???_

Corrine raised an eyebrow. Wow. This person was . . . interesting. Maybe she shouldn't have texted the number in the first place. She sure as hell wasn't going to make that mistake again.

Corrine clicked her screen off and sat down on her bed and grabbed her book, pulling her legs under her hips and flipping to the bookmarked page. She found the spot where she left off and started to read.

After reading the same paragraph three times, however, Corrine reached over to her phone and flipped it over so the screen was pressed against the wood. She didn't even know why she was so intrigued by the mystery number, but she couldn't deny that there was something sort of exciting about talking to someone new, even if it was just in a casual atmosphere.

. . . maybe one more text wouldn't hurt. She deserved to know what was going on, right?

She put her book down and grabbed her phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the conversation. She hesitated for a moment before typing out a response. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 10:37) I'm not sure whose car you mistook mine for but my name isn't Kate and it's definitely not a new car, so I'll ask again: why did you draw on my car?_

She bit her lip before hitting send. She put her phone back on her desk and tried to read again, her mind still running everywhere except for on her book. She hoped she wasn't coming off as too rude―if the vandalism truly was a mistake, that it was just the wrong car, she didn't want to say the wrong thing. It really was a beautiful drawing, and she would be lying if she said that she didn't want to see more like it.

Corrine's hand shot out when the screen lit up. She unlocked the phone and opened up the message.

_From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.06.2018. 10:43) . . . shit. This really isn't Kate, is it._

Corrine began to respond, but before she could, two more messages came in. One was a normal text message, but the second one was a picture message of some kind. Corrine clicked the latter message first and waited for it to load, rhythmically breathing through her nose and flattening her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Once the picture loaded, Corrine's eyes widened. She thought the dragon that had been drawn on her car was impressive, but _this_ drawing . . .   _wow_. This drawing was a dragon as well, but the pencil-and-paper sketch was detailed down to the smallest reflection in the eyes and the thinnest vein in the wings. She zoomed in to the scales, letting out a long breath as she looked at the subtle but complex graduation from deep-purple to ice-blue.

She saved the picture to her phone and went back to the conversation, this time to read the text message. _From: XXX-XXX-4558 (Received 09.06.2018. 10:44) I am so sorry. I know it doesn't mean anything but you said the dragon on your car looked good so . . ._

Another message came through. _From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.06.2018 10:45) Again, I'm sorry. Kate is my manager―we prank each other all the time. She just bought a car like yours so I thought it was hers. I didn't do any damage to your car did I? If I did I'll get it fixed I promise._

Corrine clicked the box below the messages to reply, but before she could type out a response, she heard a knock at her front door. She got up and slipped her phone into her pocket, putting her slippers back on and walking to the door.

Scepter was sitting in front of the door, her head cocked to the side as she dug her nails into a loose floorboard. She let out a quiet _meow_ as she swiveled her head around to look at her owner, spinning back around in confusion as there was another knock.

Corrine scooted the cat over and opened the door. There was a woman with a light-brown bob standing there, her gray eyes flickering with the reflection of the light next to Corrine's apartment number. She was wearing a gray pencil skirt and a hot-pink sweater, her black cat-eye glasses balancing on the bridge of her nose.

“Can I help you?” Corrine asked, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms over her chest. Scepter crept up behind her and tried to dart out the door, but Corrine hissed at her, shocking the kitten enough to make her run back to the bedroom.

The woman nodded, gesturing with her hand over her shoulder. “I live down the hall, and no one else has answered their doors―could I use your phone? I've managed to lock myself out of my apartment, and my cell is dead. I just need to call my roommate and see when she's coming home.”

Corrine hesitated before straightening up and holding the door open the rest of the way. “Come on in,” she said, holding her hand out in the direction of the kitchen.

The woman smiled gratefully and walked inside, following Corrine's line of sight into the kitchen. Corrine followed her and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water before unlocking her phone, handing both to the girl.

The girl smiled. “Thank you. I think I'll have to call her at work, though―is it alright if I look up the number? I can't remember her cell number for shit.”

Corrine nodded. “Yeah, that's fine. I don't mind.”

The girl smiled again and began tapping her thumbs against the screen, clearly looking the number up before holding the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Dana, it's McKenzie―can I talk to Sydney?” She paused for a moment, waiting for the other person's response. “Awesome, thank you.”

The girl―McKenzie―stopped talking again, presumably waiting for “Sydney” to come to the phone. She put her hand over the mouth piece and tilted the phone upwards. She looked at Corrine. “Thank you for letting me use your phone―normally I don't get home until half-two, but there was a power outage at my school, so we canceled classes for the day, and Sydney got called into work early―” she cut off, shaking her head. “Sorry, sorry, I know you don't care about―Sydney? Yeah, hey, it's Kenz―yes, I locked myself out again―I texted you when I left school, don't give me that―yeah, okay, that works. Thank you. See you in ten.―Okay. Bye, Sydney.”

McKenzie lowered the phone and hung up before handing the phone back to Corrine. “My roommate is about to go on break so she will let me in. Thank you so much.” She stood up, holding her hand out. “I'm McKenzie, by the way―I meant to come see you right after you moved in, but things have just been hectic.”

Corrine shook her hand. “I'm Corrine, but you can call me Corrie.”

“Well, Corrie, it's nice to meet you.”

“You too. You can stay for until your roommate gets home, I don't mind.”

McKenzie shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but Sydney just works down the street.  I should get the mail anyway.”

Corrine nodded and led McKenzie down the hall, opening the door for her. Scepter, again, tried to escape, but this time, Corrine let her. McKenzie laughed. “She's a little spit-fire, isn't she?”

Corrine frowned and rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.” She watched as Scepter leapt at a bug before jumping back, letting a loud whimper and flattening her ears as the bug flew up at her face. She darted away from it, darting down the hallway before launching herself off the wall and attaching the bug again.

McKenzie stared as the kitten finally ate the bug before turning back to Corrine. “Thanks again,” she said, turning on her heel and walking in the opposite direction of Scepter.

Corrine waited for the cat for another minute before grabbing Scepter's treat bowl and putting it on the inside of the doorway, cracking the door so that she could slip back in when she was done with her hallway excursion.

She sat down on the couch and tucked her feet under her thighs, curling up against the arm and pulling her favorite plush garnet-colored blanket over her legs. She tilted her head, closing her eyes and letting out a breath through her nose. She had only been up for an hour, and she was already ready to take a nap.

Corrine kept her eyes shut, keeping her breathing shallow and her body relaxed. She had her hands wrapped up in the blanket and she could feel Scepter (who had crept back in to eat her treats) chewing on her toes, treating her socks like the hallway bugs.

“Scepter, stop,” Corrine groaned, shaking her foot and tensing her toes against the animal’s razor-sharp teeth. “My foot isn't food. Let me sleep.” She shook her foot harder, letting out a contented sigh when Scepter ran off to play with something else.

Corrine repositioned herself so that she was lying down. She had almost fallen asleep when she felt her phone vibrating against her thigh. She pulled it out to see who was calling her, rolling her eyes when she saw that it was her mother again.

She hit the “ignore” button before shooting up, suddenly remembering her conversation with the mystery number. McKenzie had distracted her from responding, right after the mystery number had apologized for maiming her car. Corrine had been worried about coming off as rude, and she had basically ignored everything that she wanted to do.

Corrine pulled the conversation up and began to type, her stomach rolling.

She never was good at talking to people.

 

 

 

4

Sydney took her hair down out of her ponytail, shaking it out and letting it fall over her shoulders as she pulled her purse down off one of the hooks in the break room. One of her coworkers, Eddie, raised an eyebrow at her as she took out her car keys.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, kicking at a loose tile on the floor. He stuck his hands in his pocket and raised an eyebrow, making his beaded silver eyebrow ring shine nearly white under the cheap fluorescent lights. He walked over to her and leaned against the wall adjacent to her, propping his foot against the baseboard and lounging back. His too-small black polo rose over his belly as he arched his back, the bottom quarter of a faded rose tattoo sticking out.

Sydney made a face at him, pretending to gag at the sight of his stomach. He had gotten more and more obvious with his flirtations in the past few weeks, and no matter how many times Sydney told him she was a lesbian, he didn’t seem to get the picture. She rolled her eyes when he spread his fingers in his pockets, holding his pants out at an angle to make his crotch look larger than it was. Eddie tried to bit his lip seductively, but it made him look more like he was having gas cramps. Sydney crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on her heels. “You're just upset that you won't be able to bug me on my break.”

Eddie pulled his hands out of his pockets, holding up in mock defense, the grin never leaving his face. “Hey, it's not my fault it gets busy when you're of the clock. You know, if we hung out _outside_ of work, you wouldn’t have to worry about us getting interrupted.” He winked.

Sydney rolled her eyes again. Normally, she hated going to break this early (breaking before the lunch rush always made her day feel so much longer), but she was grateful for it today, if only to get away from Eddy for an hour. Hopefully, by the time she came back, he would have found some poor customer to flirt with and would leave Sydney alone the rest of the day.

Sydney turned on her heels and started to walk towards the door. Eddie called after her, pleading with her to stay and spend her break with him, but Sydney ignored him, tossing her hair over her shoulder and throwing her cardigan over her forearm. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, smirking as she saw another message from the number she had saved as “car girl” (or at least she was assuming the other person was a girl; she had seen feminine sunglasses on the visor and lip-gloss on the front seat). She reached across her stomach and twirled the ends of her hair as she opened the message.

_From: Car Girl (Received 09.06.2018. 11:03) It's fine. No damage done. Besides, I think I rather like it._

Sydney smiled at the response and put the phone back in her pocket. What could she say to that? “Oh, I’m glad you like how I vandalized your car. That’d be great if you don’t, you know, pres charges for damage to your property.” Yeah, that would go over great. Besides, she shouldn’t really be talking much to this person anyway. She was a perfect stranger, and the drawing really _hadn’t_ been for her.

When Sydney reached her car, however, she changed her mind, pulling her phone back out of her pocket and going to her messages. Before she was able to come up with a witty response, though, her phone buzzed in her hand, the screen lighting up with a new message.

_From: Car Girl (Received 09.06.2018. 11:05) What's your favorite thing to draw with? My brother is an art teacher so I've tried a few things. I suck but I like charcoal. That dragon would have been cool in charcoal, I think._

Sydney laughed, shaking her head. Evidently Car Girl didn't think covering her car in window paint made Sydney too disrespectful to talk to, so it looked like she didn’t have to worry about it. Talking about art, though? _That_ was a whole different ballgame. _That_ was something she could do on one-foot underwater with a blindfold on.

She pulled open her car door and sat down in the driver’s seat, grabbing her smokes and propping her foot up on the doorframe. She lit a cigarette and balanced her elbows on her knees, sucking in a long drag before closing her mouth, letting the smoke escape through her nose before she started typing out a response. She very rarely smoked, but sometimes, it just took that hit of nicotine to calm her down, and she would be damned if she didn’t count Eddie’s creepy come-ons as something to be anxious about. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 11:06) Inktense pencils. Ever heard of them? They're like watercolor pencils, but with ink. Here, I'll show you._ She sent the message before scrolling through her pictures, sending a drawing of an iguana, lounging in a tree. It had been one of her favorite drawings that she did in college, and still hung above her bed in a poster frame.

Sydney waited for the message to finish sending, rotating forward and tossing her phone into the passenger seat at she shut the door and started her engine. She put on her sunglasses and turned on her music before pulling out of her spot and onto the main road.

Sydney sung loudly as she drove, bobbing her head and tapping her fingers against the steering wheel in time with the song playing. It only took her a few minutes to get home (it was a fifteen minute drive, but she normally made it in half that time), and she swerved into her parking spot, grabbing her purse and phone off the passenger seat.

She walked down the sidewalk to her apartment building, going in through the front door and climbing the stairs. She shook her head when she saw McKenzie sitting on the ground next to the door, her legs crossed at the ankle and her shoes next to her. McKenzie looked over before pushing herself off the ground, twisting at the waist so that her pencil skirt stayed in place. “Hey, Syd,” she said as she leaned her shoulder against the wall, her curly honey hair frizzing from the static electricity running through the plaster.

Sydney pulled her keys out and unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping into the air conditioning. She held the door open for McKenzie before relocking the door and kicking her shoes off in the front hallway. “So what happened at work? I thought you said they weren't rewriting your classroom until this weekend.”

“I texted you and explained what happened, Sydney.”

“Yeah, well, I was working, I only skimmed the text.”

McKenzie rolled her eyes. Sydney was tempted to do the same; McKenzie should know after all these years that Sydney ignored her messages more often than not. “The construction workers were rewiring the gym and removed the wrong chord. They couldn’t figure out how to get it reattached and messed up more of the wiring, so all the students were sent home. Once all the students were gone, we were sent home.” She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. “You know, you really should answer me every once and a while. I text you importation information, you know.”

Sydney shrugged. “Yeah, well, you also text me about the mating cycles of moths and gossip about the other teachers at your school. If I read every message that you sent me, I’d never get anything done.”

“Moths are important! They’re beneficial to the environment, and without them—”

“All right, all right, I get the picture. Anyway, why did you call the restaurant? I may not read your messages but when you call me more than once I always answer, you know that.” She went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, twisting it open and dumping the contents of a flavor-packet into it. She put the lid back on and shook the bottle before uncapping it and taking a drink, making a sound of disgust and sticking her tongue out when she sucked down a still-solid clump of the pomegranate-flavored powder. “Blech, that was like sucking on a piece of chalk.”

Sydney held the bottle out of McKenzie but McKenzie pushed it away, grabbing her own bottle of water from before work off the counter. Surprisingly, the water was still decently cool, and didn’t taste like leftover plastic at all. “I didn’t take my charger with me this morning and my phone is dead, so I had to borrow a phone from the new neighbor, and I couldn’t remember your cell number. I had to Google the restaurant just to figure out how to get in touch with you.”

Sydney began to nod, but when McKenzie’s words hit her, she tilted her head to the side in confusion. “What new neighbor? I haven’t seen anyone moving in lately.”

McKenzie gestured with her hand towards the right. “The new girl at the end of the hall, Corrie. She lives where Mr. Thomas was.” Mr. Thomas was an elderly gentleman that had lived in the same apartment for almost twenty years, his name known well around the complex for walking around the complex during the winter and scraping ice off people’s cars, and for picking up trash along the street. He had a golden retriever named Pevely that went everywhere with him, and he carried a rusted brass goose-head cane. He had, unfortunately, passed away three months prior after a bad bout of pneumonia, and was greatly missed by everyone that knew him.

Sydney nodded, remembering when the apartment had gone on the market. It had only been a month and a half, but she couldn’t help but admit that she was hoping that the apartment would stay empty a few months longer. She had been so busy with work, though, that she had barely noticed the change of the seasons, let alone the change of residents in her building. “New neighbor, huh? What’s she like?”

“She seems really nice, at least as far as I could tell. Maybe a bit shy—she’s pretty cute, too. Very much your type.”

“My type, huh? So imaginary and non-existent?” It had been a while since Sydney had had a girlfriend or even a lover (again, she was incredibly busy with work), something that McKenzie liked to bring up on a fairly often basis.

McKenzie put her water bottle back down and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Ha ha, you’re so funny. Seriously, though, you’d like her. Athletic, tall, curly red hair—maybe you should go and talk to her.” She winked. “You know, be a good neighbor and all. Show her around the complex, teach her the rules of the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that. Sounds more like your type than mine, Kenz. Why don’t you go back and talk to her?”

“Because I have a girlfriend, remember? I’ll leave the honor up to you.” She stuck her tongue out before pushing herself off the counter, putting her water bottle back in the fridge before tucking her hair behind her ear and walking towards the bedrooms. “I’m going to take a shower and take a nap, but if you think about it before you come home, can you pick up dinner?”

“Will do. Fajitas or enchiladas?”

“Fajitas, for sure. Is that even a question? Can you bring me home some of that fried ice cream shit too? You know, the one that you always bitch about making when my sister is over?”

That was true. McKenzie's sister, Marcie, was _obsessed_ with fried ice cream to the point where Sydney had no doubts that she would request it for her last meal. It really was awful to make without the proper equipment, though. “Okay.”

“Thank you!” McKenzie ran her fingers through her hair and turned on her heel, disappearing down the hallway. Sydney shook her head and sat down on one of the barstools tucked under the island counter, grabbing a honey-crisp apple and snacking on it as she unlocked her phone.

Sydney opened her notifications to see that she had two new messages from the Car Girl, one containing nothing but exclamation marks, and another that had a picture. Sydney opened the picture message, snorting when she saw the attempted charcoal drawing. She assumed it was supposed to be a figure drawing but the spine was snake-like, the eyes were way too high up on the figure's face, and the hands looked like they were miles long. There were smudged finger prints littering every inch of blank space, and the edges of each figure were feathered instead of in solid lines.

Sydney stared at the sketch for a moment more before returning to the conversation, where she had received another message.

_From: Car Girl (Received 09.06.2018. 11:24) If you think that is bad, you should see my dragons. I told you I suck at drawing._

The girl sent another picture showing a stick-figure dragon with an orange scribble next the mouth that Sydney assumed was supposed to be fire. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 11:27) Hey, your dragon and monster-lady were cute. Don't be hating on the sketches._

Sydney got a smiley face back in response. She chuckled and put her phone into her back pocket. She grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder, groaning as the weight dropped. She so did not want to go back to work. She hated being there on her best day, and Kate was off the rest of the afternoon.

She went back out to her car and threw herself into the seat, crossing her arms over her stomach and slouching down. She started the engine and fiddled with the radio, flipping through the songs on her flash drive before deciding on some old school rap, the type of music that her parents would kill her for listening to even now, if they were alive.

She glanced at the clock in the car, groaning. She didn’t have any more time to stall. The lunch rush normally started around 11:50.

She couldn’t have been more excited if she tried.  

 

 

 

5

Corrine waited several minutes for a response, but when she didn’t receive one, she turned the screen of her phone off and slipped it back into her pocket. She put the finishing touches on her makeup and pulled her hair into a side ponytail, her curls tangling with the loose threads of her sweater and making the ends look iridescent. She pulled on a pair of dress pants and tucked her sweater in before grabbing her blazer and throwing it over her shoulder. She still very much wanted just to lie around her house, but she wanted to drop her resume off at that advertising firm, as well as see what else she could find that was hiring, before she ended up trapped at her parents’ house.

Corrine went into her kitchen and refilled Scepter’s food bowl. The kitten bounced off Corrine’s foot, knocking her feet against the base of the refrigerator and pushing off the ground with a shocking amount of height. She crashed against the wooden baseboard behind her food before falling down, her chin landing square in her water bowl. Her thick fur quickly soaking up some of the liquid and made it look like she had a beard. She shook her head, flinging beads of water around before dropping to her stomach, rolling over and hooking a claw into her food bowl. She pulled it closer to her but refused to get up, throwing her head over the rim of the bowl and using her tongue to pull bits of food into her mouth.

Corrine shook her head and laughed, squatting down and patting the side of the kitten’s face before standing back up. Her stomach growled, and she contemplated finding something to eat in her pantry before changing her mind. If she was going to spend her day conducting business and trying to sell herself, she deserved to go somewhere good to eat. The problem was, it was been so long since Corrine had spent more than a day or so in St Louis that she couldn’t remember where the best place to get brunch was. When she was younger there was a mom-and-pop restaurant down the street from her parents’ house, but that had closed before she had even left for college.

Corrine unlocked her phone and stared at her internet browser, twisting her lips up to the side and furrowing her brow as she tried to decide what she was going to look up. She only typed in a few words, however, before she switched over to her texting app.

She contemplated asking Allison for a recommendation, but she was a bit curious to see what the stranger would recommend as the best in town. She typed out a message before going back to the internet, scoping out a few online menus while she waited for a response. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 11:49) So, I’m new to the area (well, sorta), and I’m in the mood for brunch. Any recommendations about where I should go? No idea what type of food I’m in the mood for._ Her stomach growled as she received a notification saying that the message went through.

Fortunately, whomever she was speaking to must have had their phone in their hand, as they responded almost instantly, sending two messages, one right after the other. _From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.06.2018. 11:51) “Sorta” new around here? What does “sorta” new around here mean?_

_From: XXX-XXX-4568 (Received 09.06.2018. 11:51) Also, Nevermore Baked Goods is the shit. They don’t really do breakfast in particular, but they make some of the best damn pastries I have ever had. Seriously, once you try their chocolate croissant you’ll be ruined for anything else chocolate FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!!!! I swear, every month I basically live there for a week. Normal chocolate doesn't do shit anymore._

Corrine snorted at the enthusiasm of the message, her heart rate increasing slightly as she read the last line of the message. It seemed more and more likely that her new acquaintance was female. The more she thought about it, though, the more the restaurant name sounded familiar. She could vaguely remember her brother talking about some chocolate-cherry tart being “the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth, Corrie, like seriously, the best,” but she couldn’t remember if he had told her the restaurant name or not.

She opened up her MapQuest and searched the bakery, nodding when she saw that it was within walking distance of her apartment. She put the copies of her resumes in her messenger bag and slipped on a pair of ballet flats before squatting down and rubbing Scepter's head. “Alright, sweetie, I'll be back later,” she said, picking her up and kissing her nose before putting her back by the food bowl. “Protect the house for me.”

Corrine stood back up and pulled her bag across her body, grabbing her sunglasses and putting them on before making her way to the front door. She went outside and started her walk, her mind wandering as she looked around her surroundings. She had noticed all the changes as she drove back and forth from her apartment to places around town, but walking gave her a very different feeling than driving did. She could remember walking around before she had her own car, meeting girls for dates and finding their own secret hiding places, especially in the woods behind her high school. The woods were gone now, though, replaced with the beginning of Corrine's apartment complex. Her favorite secret spot was now covered by the leasing office, and the alcove where she lost her virginity to Carmen Alera, the principal's daughter, had been replaced by a dog park.

Corrine's phone vibrated in her pocket as she reached the bakery parking lot. She pulled out the device and unlocked the mystery message, staring at the number listed for a moment before clicking the “edit contact” button and changing the name from the number to “Dragon Chick.” She saved the new name and went back to the message. _From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.06.2018. 11:56) Get their blackberry lemonade, too. Or pomegranate, or Apple―just anything lemonade! Dammit now I want some―thanks a lot._ She had inserted a winking face at the end of the message.

Corrine couldn't help but grin _. From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 11:57) Lemonade is my favorite, how did you know? I took your advice―heading there now._ She sent the message and put her phone back in her pocket, glancing around the parking lot as she made her way to the front of the bakery. It was small but oozed personality, from the friendly demeanor of the employees to the photographs littering the walls. She saw pictures of the two owners and their families, as well customers of all ages enjoying their treats.

She studied the pictures for another minute before going and getting in line, her eyes lighting up when she saw a man with styled brown hair and a goatee working the register. That's why the name was so familiar! Michael, her brother's longtime boyfriend, was talking to a customer, pulling out a tray of sample-sized treats and letting the customer's daughter pick out her favorite.

Once the toddler had chosen a treat, Michael handed the woman her order, smiling at her. “Bye, Lauren, bye, Weaver,” he said, blowing the toddler a kiss and waving his hand. The toddler squealed and waved back, tucking her head into the crook of her mother's neck as she shoved the sweet into her mouth.

Michael scribbled something on a piece of paper before looking up, his eyes lighting up when he saw Corrine. “Corrie! Hey!”

Corrine smiled at him and went the rest of the way up to the counter. She leaned against the marble and balanced her weight against her forearms. “Hey, Michael. I forgot that you worked here!”

Michael snorted. “Have you ever even been here? James didn't know this place existed until we started dating.”.

Corrie flushed. “Well, no, but a friend of mine recommended that I come here and try your blackberry lemonade and chocolate croissant, so . . . here I am.”

Michael grinned and nodded, reaching into a box and pulling out a piece of wax paper before grabbing one of the flaky, full croissants out of the display case. He wrapped it in lilac-colored paper and stuck it in a bag before grabbing a dark-chocolate tart topped with black cherries and some sort of gelatin, cutting out a slice and putting it in a container, as well.

“The tart is my favorite,” Michael said, handing Corrine the package before slicing out a smaller piece for himself. He grabbed a fork and took a bite before turning around, going over to the pitchers resting against the counter and filling a to-go cup with a dark-purple liquid. He handed the drink to Corrine, as well. “Your blackberry lemonade, Madame.”

Corrine held the plastic container up in a salute before lowering it down and taking a sip, her eyes widening as the taste coated her tongue. The lemonade was tart and tangy, the blackberry adding just the right amount of sweetness without overdoing it. The sugar had completely dissolved into the liquid and wasn't at all gritty, a common flaw in commercial lemonade that Corrine could not stand.

“Wow! That is good,” Corrine said, taking another sip. “What do I owe you?”

Michael shook his head and waved his hand. “It's on the house. Don't worry about it.”

Corrine raised an eyebrow in disbelief. When she had worked at a bakery years earlier she would get suspended if she so much as gave a _crumb_ to a customer, nonetheless free treats and a free drink. “Really? You won't get in trouble?” She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet, twirling the paper money between her fingers. “Please, just let me pay for it. Here, this should cover it, right?” She held out a twenty.

Michael reached across the counter and pushed Corrine's hand back, closing her fingers around the twenty. “Seriously, it's fine. Trevor tells us all the time that this is a family place, and that our families eat for free. My sister-in-law can get some dessert, it's fine.”

Corrine's other eyebrow shot up. “Sister-in-law?! When did this happen?!” She didn't realize how loud her voice had gotten until the woman and her toddler startled, the legs of their chairs jumping against the linoleum floor. Corrine raised a hand in apology before turning back to Michael. “Sorry. But really, did I miss the wedding? Why didn’t anyone call me? I would have flown back immediately, you know that!”

Michael's cheeks were flushed dark-red, and he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Well, he hasn't officially said yes yet, but―are you going to be at your parents' tonight?”

“Yes?” Corrine stared at Michael in confusion before it hit her. She straightened her back and opened her eyes wide, letting out an excited squeak when she noticed the flush on Michael’s cheeks and the beads of sweat that were beginning to form on his forehead. “What does that have to do with—oh my, God, you're proposing _tonight_?”

Michael nodded and fidgeted more. It was clear he was getting more and more anxious the more that he talked about it. He rocked on his feet and moved his hat, running his hand through his hair. “Uhm, yes?”

Corrine let out a squeal, her knees shaking as she grinned and leaned against the counter. She pushed her hair behind her ear and took another sip of her drink. “I can’t believe you’re finally doing it. Do my mom and dad know that you’re proposing?”

The blood rushed from Michael’s face, his tanned skin turning to paste. “I, uh, talked to them about it last week.” His voice started to shake and he chewed on his bottom lip. He glanced over at the door as two more customers came in, the bell twinkling over their heads. His shoulders dropped in relief when they started to walk up to the counter.  “I have to take them, but I'll see you tonight, yeah?”

Corrine nodded, although she couldn’t help but roll her eyes and tease her anxious future brother-in-law. “Definitely, especially now that I know dinner will be _quite_ the affair.” She stuck her tongue out, and Michael turned back to the register, his hand shaking slightly as he typed something onto the screen. Corrine picked up her drink and treats, taking another long sip as she put the sweets in her bag and started the walk back home.

As she walked across the parking lot, Corrine pulled out her phone and pulled up her conversation with the mystery number. She made sure to look up every few seconds as she walked. She was clumsy enough without the added distractions of her phone, nonetheless with it. She stopped at a trash can in the corner of the parking lot, finishing her drink and tossing it into the trash. She opened her purse and pulled out the bag Michael had given her. Each treat was wrapped in wax paper, the paper stuck to itself from the heat of the desserts. She grabbed the croissant and put the bag back in her purse before sending a text back to Dragon Chick.

_From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 12:08.) Have to say, for such a small shop they sure do have a lot of options. It's so cute there!_

She sent the message and unwrapped her croissant, the thick chocolate sauce inside oozing out and getting all over her thumb. It was baked to perfection, the pastry buttery and flakey, and the sauce rich and smooth. She had always been a fan of anything chocolate, but there was a very real possibility that this was some of the best chocolate that she had ever eaten.

She kept her phone out as she walked, spinning it around in her free hand while she waited for a response. By the time she got one, though, she was nearly home, the _ping_ of her ringtone only going off when she was going up the steps to her door. She unlocked her phone and looked down excitedly, but the message was just an automated response from her auto insurance company, alerting her that her policy would auto-renew in exactly a week. She clicked her phone off and  put it into her purse before unlocking her door and going inside her apartment, yawning as the decadence of her desserts began to relax her.

Corrine locked her front door and went into the living room, squatting down to pet Scepter as she yawned again. The kitten was lying in the sunlight streaming through the living room window, her legs up in the air and her face pressed against the carpet. She barely moved when Corrine touched her, far too relaxed for a few strokes to pull her from dreamland.

“You’re a smart girl,” Corrine murmured as she stood up,  stretching and kicking her ballet flats off before wandering down the hall and going into her bedroom. She unzipped her trousers and let them fall around her ankles, walking over to her bed and climbing in in just her blouse and her underwear.

The job search could wait until later, but for now, her bed was calling to her.

 

 

 

6

Sydney went into the kitchen and leaned her head against the wall, letting out a groan. This shift was really kicking her butt. All of her normal customers had decided to come in at once, and a family with thirteen children (plus five adults, two teenagers, and a friendly elderly woman) took up the entire back corner of Sydney's section. The children, while slightly wild, were much better behaved than their adult counterparts, who had clearly pre-gamed in the parking lot before coming in to take advantage of the two-for-one margarita happy hour.

“Your friends in the back corner want another round and dessert,” Dahlia, Sydney's coworker, said as she came into the kitchen, placing her order slip on the board before putting the pad in her black apron, leaning against the side of the counter and crossing her arms over her stomach.

Sydney let out a low growl, lifting her hand up and digging her fingertips into the corner of her eyes. She was definitely going to have a migraine by the end of the night. She could already feel it coming on, the corners of her vision dotting with black and her stomach churning. She really had no desire to go back out and play nice, even if it was for a tip.

She lowered her hand and pushed herself off the wall, wincing when the movement caused a rush of pain to the nerves in her face. Dahlia raised an eyebrow before reaching into her apron and pulling out a compact, light-blue pill bottle. She opened it and dumped the pills in her hand, counting out three white oblong shapes before holding them out to Sydney. “Here, these will help with the pain.” She reached behind her and got a glass, which she filled up before holding that out to Sydney, as well. “Drink up.”

Sydney took the tablets and water gratefully. “Thank you.” She tossed the pills in her mouth and drank the water, the churning in her stomach momentarily getting worse as the pills got stuck and began to dissolve in her throat. She tried to drink the rest of the water to get them down, but when that didn't get rid of the repulsive taste, she pulled down a bag of chips from the shelving over the counter and took a few out, shoving them in her mouth and chewing until her taste buds were salty instead of bleeding.

Sydney drank the rest of her water before handing the empty glass to Dahlia, who put it with the rest of the evening dishes. She glanced over at the clock and pulled her order book back out of her apron, relieved to see that it was already past four o'clock, which meant she only had to make it a little more than an hour before she could go home.

Sydney pasted on her best fake smile and held her notepad out in front of her, tilting her pen and pressing the tip to the paper. She walked over to the back of the room and stood in between the two tables the family was using, waiting for any of the adults to acknowledge her presence. They were all in their own little world, though, too busy arguing over the way the children colored their coloring books and over who had ordered the best food to figure out what they wanted for dessert.

All Sydney wanted, however, was for the family to finish up their meal and get out of the restaurant. They had caused more damage in an hour than the rest of the patrons caused the rest of the day: there were puddles and piles of food all over the table and the ground beneath it, the low, olive-green carpet looking like a Christmas extravaganza with dots of red tomatoes and white sour cream. The eldest child, a girl, seemed to be trying to help keep her family in line, but it wasn’t going well. She was flushed in embarrassment as she tried to help feed the youngest of the children, two little boys who couldn't be any older than three. She tried to shovel their food back onto the plates instead of on the table, and to catch their pseudo-sippy cups before they fell over, but she wasn’t quick enough, and the floor became even more of a disaster.

Sydney waited a full thirty seconds before clearing her throat, tapping the tip of her pen against the paper. No one looked up, so Sydney tried again, clearing her throat even louder. She was trying to stay calm, but her stomach was boiling and her nerves were growing frayed. She clenched her jaw and cleared her throat for a third time.

This time, finally, the elderly woman responded. She reached over and tugged on Sydney’s apron, her cataract-covered eyes looking like they were going through Sydney instead of at her. Her snow-white hair sat atop her head like cotton balls, large expanses of papery skin in-between each tuft. Her voice broke as she spoke, her vocal chords straining to stay alert. “They'll take another pitcher of margaritas, please, sweetheart, and an order of cinnamon churros for the adults, please―the children don't need anything else.”

Sydney nodded and wrote everything down. The woman let go of her apron and slouched down in her chair, her eyes darting back and forth as she stared at the wall across from her. Sydney gently pushed her shoulder to get her attention. “Is there anything else I can get for you, ma'am? Lemonade, tea?”

The woman shook her head, her eyes never blinking. “Thank you, Maria, but I don't like marmalade on my sea horse, you know that. Go feed it to Marvin, I'm sure my house plants don't catch enough food everyday anyhow.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow but said nothing. At least she had been able to get a coherent order from the woman before she slipped back into her own mind. She put her order book back into her pocket and went back up to the counter.

She had just started to fill up the pitcher when she heard someone behind her. “Um, excuse me miss, I was just wondering if you guys are still looking for someone to help with advertising? I saw the ad online this morning and, well, I just moved back to town. I don't really know that many places around here anymore.”

Sydney glanced over her shoulder at the customer, her mouth going dry when she saw who it was: the drunken girl from the night before. She had been attractive in street clothes, but now, clearly trying to look professional, she was _stunning_. Her blazer and trousers for her perfectly, snug around her hips and her rear before going straight down to the floor. She had sparkling green eyes, and her orange-red curls were falling loosely around her face and over her shoulder.

Sydney stared at her for a moment before jumping at the feeling of the overfilled margarita submerging her fingers. She jerked her hand back, sending the pitcher and the liquid to the floor in an explosion of glass. “Fucking great,” she muttered, flashing the girl an apologetic smile before grabbing a towel and doing her best to soak the liquid up.

The girl smiled and leaned against the counter, peering down over the edge of the marble. “Do you need some help?” she asked, grabbing another towel off the end of the counter and holding it out to Sydney. Sydney reached up and took it, using it to push the bits of glass into the now-soaked rag.

“Thank you, but I think I’m all right.” She pushed the rags together and scooped them up, pressing them against one another as she stood. She went over to the sink and pulled the rags apart, wincing as some of the glass bounced off the metal and cut the back of her hand. “Ah, shit,” she muttered as one of the cuts quickly began to bleed, a small triangular shard sticking out of the edge of the wound. She bit her lip and used her other hand to pull it out, whimpering softly at the stinging sensation of the edges cutting through her skin.

The guest reached over the counter and took Sydney’s hand in hers, using a napkin from the pile at the end of the counter to sop up some of the blood. Sydney’s heart fluttered, and she unintentionally held her breath as the girl’s soft fingers gripped her wrist. The girl lifted her hand up closer to her face so that she could see it better, narrowing her eyes at the cut for a moment before laying Sydney’s hand back down. She reached into her purse and pulled a small pink container out, opening it and pulling out a bandage. She unwrapped it and put it on the wound, making sure that the edges were pressed tightly against Sydney’s skin.

Once the bandage was secure, the girl smiled at Sydney. “There. All better.”

Sydney swallowed and nodded, trying to smile back, although she was sure that it looked more like a grimace. “Uhm, thank you, uh . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it.”

Sydney waited, but the girl didn’t go any further than that. When Sydney raised an eyebrow in her direction, however, the girl let out a nervous laugh before lifting a hand to play with the end of her ponytail. “Uhm, my name’s Corrie. Corrie McDowell.” She crossed her other arm across her stomach and wrapped her hand around her elbow, twirling a strand around her index finger and pulling it down.

Corrine rocked back on her heels and hesitated before reaching back down into her purse and pulling out a stapled packet of paper. She straightened the edges before holding it out to Sydney, nodding slightly when Sydney took it. “I, uhm, I need to get going, but it was nice meeting you . . . ” she glanced down at Sydney’s name tag, “ _Sydney_. Hopefully your marketing department likes my resume and you’ll see me again.” She went back to playing with her hair.

Sydney put the resume on the half-counter against the back wall, making sure that it was far enough away from all of the bottles of liquor that it wouldn’t get ruined. “I’ll make sure that they get it,” she promised, tapping her fingers against her apron before reaching into the pocket and pulling out her order pad. She looked down at it and tried to focus on what the paper was saying as Corrine closed her bag and turned to walk away, but she couldn’t help but to look up and see just how lovely those dress pants really were.

Sydney watched Corrine until she was at the door. Once she was gone, she cleared her throat and shook her head, taking a moment to compose herself before looking for another pitcher to put the margarita mix in. She picked it up and grabbed an empty pitcher for water, filling that up too. She used her foot to knock open the kitchen door, calling out what desserts she needed before taking the drinks to her table, where even _more_ of a mess had been made than there had been previously.

She grit her teeth and placed the pitchers down in front of one of the men, biting her tongue when he winked at her and tried to reach out and touch her, a drunken grin on his face. His wife, who was sitting across from him, gave him a glare before turning her eyes onto Sydney, her eyes narrowing. This just seemed to spur the husband on more, and he became more forward, trying to grab Sydney’s rear.

Sydney took a large step backwards, turning on her heel as soon as she was far enough away and walking back towards the kitchen. She grabbed a thing of chips and queso for another one of her tables before going back for the churros, her stomach bubbling as she noticed the man eying her yet again from across the room. She _really_ didn’t want to have to deal with him again.

Fortunately, right as Sydney went to pick up the dessert dishes, another one of the servers, Santi, came through the double doors. “Santi!” Sydney exclaimed, holding her hands out, her fingers spread. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Santi raised an eyebrow, his eyebrow ring glinting beneath the fluorescent lights. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing! Why do you think I want anything? Can’t I just be excited to see an old friend?”

Santi rolled his eyes. It was true, Sydney and him went _way_ back. Their mothers, Christine and Margot, had been friends since high school, and forced their children to see one another and a thrice weekly basis when they were growing up. Every Friday they had dinner together, every Sunday they had brunch together, and Wednesday was game night. Santi was more like a brother to Sydney than a friend, and she _still_ spent quite a bit of time with him, albeit not always outside of work. “You, _mija_? You always have something up your sleeve.”

Sydney rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “Puh- _lease_ , Santi, when have I ever steered you wrong?”

“There was the time when you told me that there was a cat in the garage and you locked me in with the Uncle Rodrigo and his burrito farts, or the time that you were sharing ‘your’ shampoo with me and all my hair fell out, or the time that you told me our moms said it was okay for us to have a cookie so that _I_ was the one to open the package, or the time that—”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” Sydney held her hands up in defense. “We’ve had a few rough spots, but you’re still my brother, which means . . . can you take this plate of churros to table seven please? I don’t want to get hit on by weird married men again.” She picked the plate up off the counter and held it out to Santi, giving him her best puppy-dog look.

Santi stared at her for a moment before sighing, his shoulders dropping and his eyes closing. “Fine,” he breathed, opening his eyes and taking the plate out of Sydney’s hands. “Do they need anything else or just this?”

“Just this.” She gave him another smile, although this one was genuine. “Thank you, Santi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He used his back to push open the door.

Sydney watched the door swing shut before leaning back against the wall, putting her head in her hands. Her shift couldn’t be over soon enough.

 

 

 

7

Corrine pulled up in front of her parents’ house several hours after her job search had begun, her stomach growling and her nerves frayed. She could handle lots of people in small doses, but a day of trying to sell herself caused Corrine more anxiety than she was used to. She had stopped by her apartment and changed clothes, but the suffocating feeling that wrapped around her didn’t leave her body when her business clothing did. She hoped that a night around her family would make things better.

Corrine shut her car off and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath. She focused on her breathing for nearly a minute before opening her eyes and leaning forward, grabbing her purse off the seat and getting out of the car. She pulled out her phone as she walked up towards the house, frowning when she realized that she still hadn’t a message back from the dragon writer.

Sighing, she tucked her phone into the back pockets of her jeans and went up to the front door, waggling her fingers at her parents’ miniature schnauzer, Mollie, through the storm door. “Hey, girl,” she said as she stepped inside, reaching down and scratching in-between the dog’s ears when she jumped up on her leg. The dog yelped happily, and Corrine leaned down to pick her up.

Corrine could smell dinner cooking so she went towards the kitchen, but there was no one there. “Mom? Dad?” she called out, moving Mollie so that she was tucked under her arm. There was no response, so Corrine made her way to the stairs that led upstairs to the bedroom. “Mom? Dad? You guys up there?”

“In the guestroom!” Marcia’s voice echoed down the stairs. Mollie let out another happy help and began to squirm, her whole body shaking as she wagged her tail. Corrine kissed her on the head and put her down on the stairs, following her as she darted up to the top. Once they reached the landing, Corrine looked at the new painting that was at the top of the steps. She noticed her brother’s signature on the bottom right corner of the canvas, but it was a piece that was completely different from his normal style. He was a photo-realistic painter with a primary focus on animals, but this was an abstract piece, full of bright colors and broad brush strokes. The images in the painting looked like poppies and tulips when she turned her head to the right, but when she turned her head to the left, she could no longer make out any shapes.

“Your brother did a wonderful job there, didn’t he? I asked him to make me something pretty. He really out-did himself,” Marcia said, appearing around the corner of the hallway and stopping at Corrine’s side. She flipped her head and pulled her shoulder-length dark-brown hair into a ponytail. She flipped back over and crossed her arms over her stomach, tilting her head to the right like Corrine had done. “I really love the colors. Come on, I’ll show you the mural he and I are working on in the guestroom.”

Corrine raised an eyebrow. Even _she_ was a better artist than her mother was. “You’re painting a mural? What is it, a solid-colored wall?”

Marcia rolled her eyes and waggled a finger at her. “Now, now, Corrine, don’t be like that. You know that I do a great job of coloring within the lines.”

Corrine chuckled and shook her head. When she entered the guest room, however, she saw what Marcia was talking about. The room had been repainted a dusty, green color with a tan trim on the bottom two feet of the wall. Against the wall adjacent to the bed there were large blades of grass, tall flowers, dragonflies, and butterflies drawn with a pencil. There were a few places that had been painted already, but the shiny gray of the graphite had enough of a contrast that she could see what the pattern was. The longer she stared, though, the more she thought something was strange with the wall.

She stepped closer to get a better look, snorting when she saw what was written in the different shapes. “Mom, did James really make you a paint-by-number mural?”

“I wanted to do it myself, and this seemed like the best way! Don’t make fun of me.” She walked over to the wall and picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the carpet, showing it to Corrine before grabbing a Tupperware container of paint bottles off the bed. She held one out, showing the number that had been written on the lid in sharpie. “James will help me with the shading once I’m done with the bases, but this part is all mine.”

Corrine shook her head. Her mother could be so strange sometimes, although if Marcia was focused on this, it was less likely that she was going to focus on the way that Corrine put her dishes away.

Marcia let Corrine study the wall for a few more seconds before nodding towards the kitchen. “Come on, let’s get back to cooking. James and Michael will be over soon, and your sister is going to drop off the kids in an hour or so.”

Corrine pulled out her phone. “Okay, just give me a second.” She went to her camera app and snapped a picture of the wall before picking up the number sheet and snapping a photo of that, as well. She went into her conversation with the dragon girl and inserted the pictures into a message.

_From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 17:40) Looks like my mother has figured out how to counteract our awful art skills. Adult paint-by-number, who knew!_

She made sure that the message sent before locking her screen and slipping her phone back into her pocket. She followed her mom into the kitchen and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a can of Diet Coke and a jar of maraschino cherries. She got a glass from the cabinet over the stove and filled it up with the soda, letting the carbonation bubbles fizzle out before she poured some of the cherry syrup in. She used a spoon to scoop out four whole cherries, adding those to her drink before eating two on their own.

Marcia watched Corrine make her drink, a smirk on her face. “I thought you were an adult, Corrine. Do you really need that much sugar in your drink?”

Corrine’s only response was to dip her spoon back into the jar and get more cherries, sucking them straight off the spoon. Marcia shook her head and turned to the oven. She grabbed her pot holders off the counter and used them to pull out some sort of casserole. She pulled the foil off the top and shook the dish, watching to see if the cheese was melting correctly before covering it back up and closing the oven.

Corrine made a pleased noise at the smell. “Mmm, mashed potato casserole, my favorite. What are we having with it?”

“Your father is picking up fried chicken from that new deli up the street. He’ll be home in a half hour or so.” She put the pot holders on the counter before reaching under the sink and pulling out two aprons, putting on a pink one before throwing the light-green one to Corrine. “Here, wear this. You can help me cut up all these berries for dessert.” She gestured to a large bowl of fruit that was sitting at the end of the counter.

Corrine nodded, grabbing the bowl and a knife. She took everything that she needed to the table, but before she could start cutting, she felt her phone vibrating. She pulled out her phone and opened her messages, her smile growing when she saw that the dragon girl had answered her.

_From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.06.2018. 18:04) Hey, that’s a good way to learn how to paint. I think it looks nice. Besides, I like dragonflies._

Corrine bit the inside of her cheek as she responded. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 18:05) So dragons, dragonflies . . . what else do you like? Do you like drag-on?_ She sent a winking face after her question. As soon as the message sent, though, her anxiety shot back up, her palms sweating and her stomach churning nervously. She locked her phone and put it on silence, flipping it over so that the screen was facing the table. As much as she wanted to talk to the mystery girl, she didn’t know if flirting was allowed or not.

Dammit, she really shouldn’t have said that in a text.

She shook her head and tried to focus on the task at hand, dumping the bowl of berries onto the cutting board. She sorted them out by type and grabbed the knife, cutting the berries into small pieces and putting them back into the bowl. She stood up and took the bowl back to the counter, where her mom was unwrapping a sheet of cling wrap off an angel cake that Corrine assumed she had made that morning. (Marcia always made things early; it’s why she stayed so calm and collected while Corrine could turn into a bit of a basket case.)

Corrine poured sugar on the top of the berries before leaning against the counter. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Marcia paused, looking around the kitchen with her mouth twisted up to the side. “There’s some peppers, lettuce, and tomatoes in the icebox in the garage—can you cut those up for me? I wasn’t planning on making a salad, but . . . well, I can always send home the leftovers with you and your brother.”

“All right.”

Corrine got the necessary ingredients and took them back to the table, wiping both sides of the knife on her jeans before cutting up the vegetables. She made sure not to bump into her phone and draw any more attention to it than she had to, her palms sweating as she tried not to think about what she had said.

Before long, Corrine was so distracted by the task at hand that she finished the vegetables in record time. She needed to stay busy, though, so she grabbed some dressing out of the fridge and dumped the contents of the bottle into the salad bowl. She used a fork to mix it, stirring the greens slightly harder than what was necessary.

Corrine had just begun to add grated parmesan to the mix when the front door opened. She leaned back and peered down on the hall, waving when she saw her father, James, and Michael. Just like Marcia had said, Joshua, Corrine's father, was carrying a bulging bag of extra-crispy chicken. James wasn’t carrying anything, but Michael had his arms wrapped around an unopened bottle of wine. He was wearing his nerves on his face, his cheeks pale and his lips swollen from where he had bitten them. He had sweat dotting his brow, and he couldn’t seem to stop flexing his hand around the neck of the bottle.

Corrine smiled at the boys before going over to her father, giving him a hug and kissing him on the cheek. “Hi, Daddy,” she said, taking the chicken from him and setting it down next to the salad.

Joshua reached out and ruffled her hair. “Hey, Baby. How are you liking the new apartment?”

“It’s nice—smaller than my old one, but I really like the location. I’m getting everything put away, for the most part.”

Joshua sniggered. “Oh? Has your mother offered any more advice on object placement?” His eyes, sparkling with mirth, flicked over to Marcia before he looked back at Corrine.

Marcia hit her spatula against the top of the stove. “Be nice, you two. I’m just trying to make things easier for you, Corrine, that’s it.” She waved her hand in the air towards the cabinets. “You know where everything is here. That’s because it’s organized. Don’t you want that at your home, too?”

Corrine rolled her eyes, but before she could quip back, James came over and gave her a hug. “Hey, sis,” he said, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head. Corrine hugged him back. “How do you like coming back home? It’s weird, ain’t it?”

James had moved back to St Louis, too, after living in Oregon for four years for college.

She nodded. “It’s strange, but I’m glad to be close to everyone again—I can’t remember the last time I saw Magin’s kids on anything other than Skype.”

James snorted. “Don’t think that makes you special. We live less than five minutes away from Magin and I haven’t seen them in months, either.” He took his arm off from around Corrine’s shoulders and went back over by Michael, slipping an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. Michael gave him a small smile, but his eyes were still broadcasting his fear.

Corrine watched them for a few seconds before she went back over to the table, clenching her teeth as she flipped her phone over. She had three news messages: two from Allison, and one from Dragon Chick. She read the messages from Allison first.

_From: Allison (Received 09.06.2018. 18.13) Hey girl! I had fun with you yesterday. Want to go out again this weekend? I’m sure my friends would love you!_

_From: Allison (Received 09.06.2018. 18:19) Besides, you didn’t mention a girlfriend, and several of my friends are cute and single!_ There was a series of winking faces and kissing faces.

Corrine stared at the message, unsure of if she wanted to make solid plans with Allison yet. She had fun hanging out with her, too, but the thought of spending an evening with a whole group of strangers, especially ones that Allison clearly wanted to set her up with, was more than slightly daunting. She texted her back. _From: Me (Sent 09.06.2018. 18:24) I don’t know what I’m doing this weekend. I’ll get back to you._

Corrine sent the message, but before she was able to switch to the conversation with the other girl, Allison texted her again. _From: Allison (Received 09.06.2018. 18:24) No no no. You did enough of that in high school, you aren’t bailing out just ‘cuz you’re nervous. Text me your address and I’ll pick you up Saturday night._

Corrine didn’t respond, but she knew that even if she didn’t tell Allison where she lived, somehow, the girl would figure it out. Ever since they were freshmen Allison had ways of finding out even the most minute of details about the people around her. An address wouldn’t be hard for her to find.

She let out a breath and shook her head before switching conversations. _From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.06.2018. 18:17) Not on me, but on others? Hell yes. There’s a fantastic drag show downtown and on them . . . those queens pull it OFF. Have you ever been to a show?_

Corrine started to type, but her phone was snatched out of her hands by a small child. She had been so distracted by Allison’s request that she didn’t notice her niece and nephew coming into the kitchen. She looked up to see Magin standing by the island, her youngest child, Ava, perched on her hip. She was bouncing the toddler while her older two, Mia, who was six, and Damon, who was four, worked on getting Corrine and James’ phones from them.

She raised her eyebrow at Damon, who was stabbing at the screen with his index finger. “Aunt Corrie, do you have any games on here?” he asked, his brows furrowing and his lower lip jutting out as he opened nearly every app on Corrine’s home screen. Corrine held her hand out and Damon gave it back to her. He climbed into the chair next to her and sat on his knees, leaning his chin against her shoulder as he watched her go to the app store and download a few games for him. She waited for them to install before handing the phone back to him.

Damon settled down into the seat, and Corrine got up to help her mother get dinner set up in the dining room. She put out plates and silverware, making sure that the tablecloth wasn’t bunched beneath any of the bowls and serving dishes. She went back into the kitchen, but before she could grab anything else, she heard her nephew groan. She looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

Damon hit his thumbs against the screen over and over, shaking the phone and groaning again. “Your stupid phone won’t stop shaking,” he said, growling in anger as it vibrated twice. “It keeps making me lose my game!”

“You don’t need to be wasting all of Aunt Corrie’s battery anyway, Damon,” Magin scolded before passing Ava off to her mother. “I expect you to be good for Grandma and Grandpa tonight, you hear me? And that means listening to them, and Aunt Corrie, and Uncle James, and Michael, all right?” She walked over and leaned down to kiss the top of his head as Corrine’s phone vibrated again. As she straightened, she pulled Corrine’s phone out of his hands.

“Hey! I was playing with that!” Damon exclaimed, trying to reach out and take the phone back. Magin gave him a pointed look and took it back over to her sister. Corrine smiled at her and went to the home screen, snorting when she saw that Dragon Chick had sent her six pictures of drag queens in front of a “Welcome to St Louis” sign. She had to admit, they really did do a great job with their appearance.

Her grin grew as she sent back pictures of some of the queens she had seen back in Seattle. They weren’t as strikingly attractive as the St Louis ones, but they definitely weren’t bad, either.

Corrine couldn’t stop smiling as she sat down at the table, still sending messages back and forth with Dragon Chick the entire time she was eating. Her brother teased her for being so smiley, asking, like Allison, if she had a new lady in her life, but Corrine took it in stride. She really was just having a good time texting Dragon Chick.

 

 

 

8

The next few days went by in a blur. Two of Sydney's coworkers had come down with the flu, so she had been picking up extra shifts. The money was nice, but she was _exhausted_. All she wanted to do was sleep.

She was sprawled out on the couch with her head hanging off the edge as she messed around with her phone, alternating between saving Supernatural posts on Tumblr and texting the car girl (she really needed to get her name).

She was halfway through writing a message about why velociraptors were better than sharks when she was knocked off the couch by a pillow to the face. “What the hell?” she said rolling backwards and sitting against her hip. She looked up at McKenzie and glared. “What was that for?”

“You need to get ready to go! I told Arlie we'd pick her up on our way to Donny's.”

Sydney fell back against the floor and groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes. “Just leave me here to die.”

Sydney didn't have to uncover her face to know that McKenzie was rolling her eyes. She crossed her knees at the ankle, groaning again when McKenzie reached down and took her hand, pulling her off the floor. “Syd, you've been working nonstop really last few days. Have fun tonight.”

Sydney shook McKenzie's hand off. “I'll have even more fun if I'm asleep.”

“You can sleep tomorrow.”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“I know for a _fact_ that you don't. I already texted Kate and asked her.” She took Sydney's hand again and pulled her to her bedroom, pushing her into her office chair before going to Sydney's closet and pulling out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. “There. Now you don't have to waste your energy on figuring out what to wear. If you're not ready in five minutes I will get you dressed myself.”

McKenzie walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. Sydney let out a long groan and stood up, quickly stripping out of her comfortable clothing and putting on her jeans. She was thankful, at least, that all that they were doing tonight was watching movies at Donny's, so she could always crash on the couch or on the floor if she needed to.

She tossed her clothes in the hamper and went out to the living room, yawning as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun. She walked into the kitchen, where McKenzie was cutting a large slice of the chocolate cake that Sydney had bought the night before. “So who all is going to be there?” Sydney asked, pulling herself up onto the counter and stealing McKenzie's fork, scooping out a large chunk from the side of the cake. “Me, you, Donny, Chase, and Arlie like normal?”

McKenzie shook her head. “Actually, Donny has some of his other friends coming over, too.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow. “What other friends? I didn't know Donny knew anyone other than us.”

“That's because you've bailed out of the last four outings,” McKenzie said pointedly, taking her fork back and beginning to eat her own cake. “If you didn't work so damn much you'd have a much better social life.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forgive me for wanting to make sure the bills are paid.” She reached up and rubbed her eyes before dropping her hands to her lap. “If we're going, then let's go. The quicker we get out of here the quicker we can get home.”

She knew that wasn't the case, but Sydney remained hopeful. She jumped off the counter and followed McKenzie, who was still eating her cake, out to the car. McKenzie got into the driver seat and Sydney slid into the back seat, buckling in before stretching out and claiming the entire row as her own. She closed her eyes and covered herself with a jacket that someone (likely Arlie) had left on the ground.

Sydney must have fallen asleep because in the time it took for her to blink, McKenzie had picked up Arlie and driven to Donny's house. She groggily pushed the jacket back onto the floor, unbuckling and climbing out onto the driveway. She stretched and arched her back, telling Arlie hello before following her and McKenzie up to the front door, where Donny was waiting for them.

“Hey, girls!” he said, stepping out of the doorway an holding the door open with his hand. “Everyone else is here already, we were just waiting on you guys to arrive to start!”

Arlie sniggered. “You know, McKenzie, Donny, she always has to be fashionably late.” She nudged her girlfriend with her elbow. McKenzie shook her head and reached down to interlace her fingers with Arlie, pulling her into the living room, Donny and Sydney directly behind.

When they reached the living room, Sydney was shocked to see the cute girl from the restaurant sitting on the far end of the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms around her shins. She was even more shocked to see McKenzie run over to her like she'd known her forever. “Corrine―oh, Corrie, sorry! I didn't expect to see you here!”

“Uhm, hi, McKenzie,” Corrine said, her cheeks flushing prettily. McKenzie sat down on the couch next to her, pulling Arlie onto her lap.

Donny raised an eyebrow. “I take it you two know each other? I just met Corrie tonight.”

McKenzie nodded. “She lives down the hall from us! She let me use her phone the other day when I got locked out. Oh!” She turned to Sydney, waving her hand back and forth between them. “Corrie, meet my roommate, Sydney, and Sydney, meet our neighbor, Corrie.”

Sydney's mouth went dry, but whether it was seeing Corrine or how tired she was, she wasn't sure. “We, uhm, actually met the other day, at the restaurant.”

McKenzie's eyebrows shot up, and Sydney immediately regretting saying anything. She had told McKenzie all about what a fool she had made of herself in front of Corrine. She hadn't even been able to give Kate the resume or even just get her phone number off the paper before she managed to spill soda on it.

Donny could sense the tension in the room. He cleared his throat and put his hand on Sydney's shoulder, pointing out three other newcomers. “The blonde in front of Corrie is Allison,” the girl waved from her spot on the floor, “and these two over there are David and Mariah.” He pointed to a young Hispanic man and a petite brunette who were sharing Donny's arm chair. He waited until they nodded in response before introducing Sydney, McKenzie, and Arlie.

Once everyone knew everyone's names, Sydney sat down on the floor in front of the couch adjacent to where Corrie was sitting. She used one of the Styrofoam bowls that Donny had set out and scooped out some popcorn and some m&ms to snack on while she waited on the group to pick a movie. Her parents had thought her strange for her favorite flavor combinations, but something about mixing the salty and the sweet was like heaven for her.

She shook her bowl to make sure she had the correct ratio of popcorn to chocolate before leaning back into the center of the circle and grabbing a few more m&ms and three sticks of pull-and-peel licorice. She dropped the chocolate in her bowl before looking up, startling when she saw that Corrie was watching her with a peculiar look on her face. When their eyes met, Corrine quickly looked back at the screen (the opening scene of _Trick or Treat_ was playing) but she looked back almost as quickly as she had looked away. She gave Sydney a small smile.

Sydney smiled back before turning her attention to the screen. She had always been squeamish, but there was something about this movie that she actually really enjoyed. She ate a few bites of her popcorn and chocolate, letting out a happy hum as Donny left the room and brought back armfuls of soda and bottles of liquor. Sydney took a vanilla root beer, not in the mood to mix alcohol with her already exhaustion-addled mind. She took a long drink before putting it down next to her, feeling more at ease and relaxed than she had been at home. She was so relaxed, in fact, that after only a few more bites, she could feel herself fallings asleep.

 

***

 

Sydney jerked awake some time later when someone touched her shoulder. Her arm flew out and hit the first thing it could reach which, unfortunately, was someone’s nose. At first, she didn’t know what she was hearing, but when she accidently bumped the person again she recognized the squeaking, breathy noise as the sound of someone whimpering in pain. Her eyes shot open and she stood up to see Corrine sitting on the ground next to her, her eyes watering and her nose bleeding heavily into her hand.

“Oh, my God, are you okay?” she asked, grabbing Corrine’s wrist and trying to move her hand away from her nose. Corrine shook her head and kept it in place, whimpering again when Sydney accidently bumped the tip of her nose.

Sydney stood up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her through the living room and through the kitchen to the bathroom. She turned the lights on and maneuvered Corrine until she was leaning against the sink. She patted the marble next to the sink. “Here, jump up,” she said, moving away from the counter to get a washcloth from Donny’s linen closet. Unfortunately, this closet was full of the nice, guest-only linens that Donny’s ex-wife had purchased early in their marriage, and Sydney wasn’t sure that he really wanted those ruined.

She turned back to Corrine, placing a hand on her knee and handing her a wad of toilet tissue to press against her nose. “I’ll be right back, all right? Don’t move those tissues.” She gave Corrine a tight smile and went out to the back porch, where she could see shadows in the reflection of the patio light. She opened the back door and stepped out, coughing as the smoke from Donny and Mariah’s cigarettes wrapped around her and filled her lungs. 

Donny and Mariah were lost in conversation, so Sydney knocked on the doorframe. Donny’s face lit up when he saw her. “Hey, sleeping beauty! You’re awake!”

She nodded and held the washcloth out. “Do you still want this?”

Donny took it from her hand and examined it before shrugging and handing it back. “It was Monica’s, so I really don’t give a shit about it. Why?”

Sydney could feel her cheeks growing red. “I may have accidentally elbowed Corrie in the face.”

Mariah’s eyes widened, and Donny snorted. “You never fail to make a good impression on the ladies, Syd,” he teased, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth playfully.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “So does that mean I can use it or not?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Thank you.”

Sydney shut the patio door and went back into the bathroom, where Corrine was _still_ bleeding. She turned the water on and made sure it was at a decent temperature before holding it up to Corrine. “Here, take this. Pinch your nose and lean back.”

Corrine did as Sydney asked, coughing as the blood went down her throat. After a few minutes, the bleeding finally stopped and Sydney took the washcloth from Corrine, careful not to touch any of the blood. She turned the water back on and rinsed the rag out. Once it was clean, she made sure that the water was warm again before using the washcloth to get some of the blood off Corrine’s face.

“There, is that better?” she asked as she got the last of the goo from under Corrine’s nose. It didn’t look broken, but the bridge was already swollen, and she was sure that Corrine was going to have double black eyes the next morning.

Corrine cleared her throat and nodded, letting out another quiet whimper when Sydney gingerly pressed against the most swollen part. Sydney frowned. “I’m really sorry,” she said, rinsing the washcloth out again before tossing it in the trash bin. “I’ve been told I’m a bit awful to wake up.” She paused. “Why were you trying to wake me up?”

Corrine cleared her throat again before leaning over the sink and spitting out a glob of mucus-filled blood. Her hair fell into her face and caused her to sneeze, expelling more dots of blood that covered Sydney’s arm and the counter. Corrine looked horrified, and her eyes began to well up with tears, although Sydney couldn’t tell if they were from the pain or the humiliation. Sydney rubbed her shoulders and pushed her hair out of her face, using one of the rubber bands on her wrist to tie Corrine’s hair back.

Sydney stood and grabbed another washcloth from the closet. She handed it to Corrine to wipe up the counter while Sydney cleaned the specks of blood off her arm and her shirt. Once she had gotten as much of the blood out of the fabric as she could, she rinsed both her and Corrine’s washcloths in the sink before throwing them away, as well.

 “Why are you being so nice to me?” Corrine asked as Sydney helped her down off the counter. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“I elbowed you in the face. Helping you get cleaned up is the _least_ that I can do.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned against the hallway wall when Corrine paused to fix her shoe. “You know, a sneeze doesn’t answer my question. Why were you trying to wake me up?”

Corrine straightened and waved her hand towards the living room. “Allison had to run out, but she’s coming back to get me—I just was going to see if you wanted a ride home. McKenzie and Arlie don’t seem like they’re in any position to drive.”

Sydney followed Corrine’s hand, and sure enough, Arlie was sprawled across the couch with her legs dangling over the arm, and McKenzie was talking to David, her hands waving wildly and her words heavily slurred. She had a half-full bottle of Smirnoff ice in front of her, countless bottles from the whole group sitting on the coffee table.

Sydney sighed. “Yeah, as long as Allison’s all right with it. I don’t want to impose.”

Corrine let out a breath. “She literally has to go back to the apartment to take _me_ home. She doesn’t even have to go out of her way.” She walked over to the Arlie’s chair and picked the girl’s legs up, pulling a dark-green sweatshirt out from under her. She pulled it on and pulled down the hem, straightening the bottom around her hips before using her hands to flip her ponytail out from inside the hood.

Sydney watched her for a moment before looking away, coughing softly into her fist before going over to the couch and sitting next to McKenzie. McKenzie startled when the couch cushion dipped, throwing her arms up and almost doing the same thing to Sydney as Sydney had done to Corrine. “Sydney!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she fell against the other girl, putting her arms around her waist and leaning her head on her shoulder. “You’ve been so quiet tonight! I brought you here to be _fun_ , not to sleep the whole time. You can sleep at home.” McKenzie’s voice rose as she whined. She rotated around and pressed her back against her arm, leaning her head back and kicking her feet up onto David.

Sydney pushed her off her shoulder, balancing McKenzie against the back of the couch before scooting back. “That’s right, McKenzie, I can sleep at home. That’s why I’m _going_ home.”

McKenzie groaned and tried to grab Sydney’s hand. Her reflexes were too slow, and Sydney barely had to move away for McKenzie to miss her target. McKenzie tried again. “Sydney, you can’t go home! Arlie is sleepin’ and I don’t—I don’t think I should be driving like this.” She hiccupped, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “Donny said we could sleep in the guest room; stay in the guest room with us!”

Sydney shook her head. “I don’t want to stay in Donny’s guest room, Kenz. I want to go to sleep in my own bed.”

“Well how are you going to get home, hmm?” McKenzie crossed her arm and stuck up her nose before lowering her chin, smirking as if she knew something that Sydney didn’t. “You can’t walk, it’s too far, and I can’t drive you. David and Mariah have been drinking too so all the rides are out! You _have_ to stay the night.” She nodded, pursing her lips and letting her eyes drift shut.

“Allison is going to take me home, okay? She was driving Corrie home, anyway.”

McKenzie opened her eyes, waggling her eyebrows and rotating her upper body in a circle. “Ooh, going home with Corrie, eh? Corrie and Sydney, sitting in a tree—”

Sydney clapped her hand over McKenzie’s mouth and tried to block out the song. It was muffled, but she could still hear the tune. “Shut up, Kenz,” she scolded, rolling her eyes when McKenzie responded by licking her palm. “Real mature.” She moved her hand away from McKenzie’s mouth and rubbed it against her jeans, getting as much of the sticky saliva off as she could.

McKenzie started to hum and rock back against the couch again, letting out a large yawn before turning and snuggling into the cushion. Sydney put her hands under her shoulders and stood up, maneuvering McKenzie’s body so that she was more comfortable. She pried her arm out of McKenzie’s grasp and went back over to Corrine, the front door opening behind them.

 

 

9

Corrine and Allison walked out to the car, Sydney following close behind. “So, what's up with your nose?” Allison asked, grabbing Corrine's wrist and stepping in front of her. She lifted up her hand and gently touched the swollen bridge, quickly withdrawing her hand when Corrine let out a hiss of pain. “Shit, sorry.”

Corrine batted Allison's hand away. “I'm fine, seriously. It's not that bad.”

“'Not that bad'?! Corrie, your eyes are already bruising! What in the world did you do?” She pulled Corrine under the streetlight in front of Donny’s mailbox, standing on her toes to peer down at the injury. Corrine stepped around her and opened the front passenger door of Allison’s car. Before Allison could say anything else to her, she shut the door and buckled in, crossing her arms over her chest and staring pointedly out of the front window.

She waited until Allison had given up and started to walk around the car before letting her shoulders droop. She let out a long sigh, closing her eyes as Sydney got into the car behind her. She was tempted to turn and look at the pretty girl, but the pain in her face was making it hard to do anything other than face forward. Her nose was throbbing and her eyes were still watering, but she knew that she could handle it. She had broken her nose when she was sixteen, and while Sydney’s elbow had hurt quite a lot, it was nothing compared to actually breaking the bridge.

Corrine opened her eyes as Allison got into the vehicle and started the engine. Fortunately, it seemed that she had finally gotten the hint and didn’t ask any more questions about the injury. Corrine closed her eyes again and leaned back against the seat, breathing in and out through her mouth. All the blood that had gathered in her stomach was really starting to make her nauseous. The alcohol that she had consumed didn’t help, either.

She managed to keep it together until they go two streets away from her apartment complex, when a deer ran in front of the car. Allison slammed on her breaks and threw Corrine forward, her hands slamming against the dashboard and her head bouncing. She couldn’t hold back, and vomited all over the carpet and interior of the car door. Some of it even came through her nose and restarted the bleeding, covering her lap with the mess.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as she vomited again, her stomach cramping as she gagged and coughed up more mucus and blood. She cupped her hands in front of her and tried to catch as much as she could before she ruined Allison’s car, but the grim coating her palms made her feel even worse.

Allison swerved off the road and put the car in park, quickly apologizing when the lurch made Corrine whimper uncomfortably. Corrine put her hands over her eyes and tried to breathe, but her senses were overwhelmed with the taste and smell of her sickness.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced up to see Sydney leaning forward, a look of concern on her face. Corrine tried to smile at her, but her smile quickly turned into a grimace as she turned back towards the front. “Take me home,” she moaned, shrugging Sydney’s hand away and waving off Allison when she tried to comfort her. “Please, Allie, I need to get out of this car.”

“You can get out now, if you need to. I have all night free,” Allison said, trying again to put her hand where Sydney’s had been. “Seriously, we don’t have to keep driving right now.” She straightened up and looked towards the back. “Do you need to be home immediately, Sydney?”

Corrine glanced back. Sydney shook her head. “No ma’am. I’m off work tomorrow.”

Allison nodded once and turned back to Corrine. “See? We can sit here as long as you’d like.”

“I’d like to go home, Allie. Please. I just want to go to bed.” Her stomach was still churning, and her nose had gone past throbbing to burning. Besides, she knew that she still had a couple of Percocet in her medicine kit from when she had dislocated her shoulder. That would rid her of at least some of the pain, and it would knock her out for the night.

Allison stared at her for several long seconds before throwing her hands up in defeat. “All right, fine, but I’m staying until you fall asleep.”

Corrine tried to raise an eyebrow. “I know we used to be friends, Al, but we haven’t talked to each other in years. You really don’t have to do that.”

Allison turned the car back on and pulled back onto the road, acting like she hadn’t heard Corrine speak. If anyone other than Allison had made the offer, Corrine would have felt paranoid and uncomfortable, but this was normal for Allison, and had been ever since high school. There had been countless occasions where the loaner or the outcast had needed a friend, or an ally, or even a place to stay. She gave anything that she could, to anyone who’d accept it.

It took less than five minutes for Allison to pull into the parking lot, but it felt like years as the scent of the vomit filled the air. Allison had opened all the windows, but even the wind hadn’t been enough to carry the smell away.

Corrine didn't even wait for Allison to shut off the car before she unbuckled and climbed out, letting out a loud groan before dragging her feet up the walkway. Her legs felt like lead, and the rancid coating on her tongue and teeth was almost enough to make her gag again.

Footsteps echoed behind her before Sydney caught up. She grabbed Corrine's arm and pulled her to a stop, turning her around until the girls were face to face. Corrine blinked slowly before taking a step back. “Let go of my arm, please.”

Sydney nodded and let go. Corrine turned back around and continued up the sidewalk, although now Sydney walked by her side. “I really am sorry,” she said, stuffing her hands into her front pockets.

Corrine didn't say anything, and they made the rest of the walk to Corrine's door in silence. Allison caught up with them after locking her car, and she leaned against the wall next to doorway while Corrine shook her key ring, letting out a low growl in frustration when every key that she used was the wrong one.

Sydney went to her own apartment, unlocking it quickly and pushing the door open. Before she went in, she called out, “Goodnight, Allison, goodnight, Corrie. I'm right down the hall if you need anything.”

Corrine glanced up and gave Sydney a tight smile before nodding. “Okay. Night, Sydney.” She turned back to her key ring, trying the second-to-last key. She let out a sigh of relief as she felt the lock turn. She opened the door and went inside, pulling her keys out and throwing the ring on the shelf that was built into the entry-way wall. Allison followed her and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment before gesturing with her head towards the living room.

Corrine let Allison pull her towards the couch, but when the blonde sat down on the end of the sofa, Corrine crossed her arms over her stomach and rested her back against the wall. “You really don't have to stay, Allie,” she said, reaching a hand up to twist a curl around her finger. “I'm just going to take a shower and get some sleep. You should probably go home and do the same.”

Allison adjusted how she was sitting, pulling her feet under her rear and resting a knee on the arm of the couch. She leaned her head into her hand. “Do you really think it's a good idea to go to sleep? What if you have a concussion?”

“Allie, I don't have a concussion. I bumped my nose, that's it.” She pulled on the curl, making it completely straight before letting go, waiting until it bounced back up before doing it again.

Allison met Corrine's eyes, and they stared at each other for several long seconds before Allison looked away, her shoulders dropping. “At least text me before you go to bed and call me if there's a problem, okay?”

“I promise. I'm not trying to be rude but please, _please_ leave. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.”

Allison pursed her lips and nodded, pushing herself off the couch and going to the door. She turned and gave Corrine a wave before opening the door and leaving.

Corrine waited for the door to close completely before deflating, her stomach loosening and her head falling forward. She felt bad about kicking Allison out, but she really just wanted to be alone. She was hurting, she was tired, she was nauseous, and she was honestly a little overwhelmed. She had never been great with meeting new people, and _everyone_ in the group of friends were new, with the exception of Allison. Sure, she recognized McKenzie and Sydney, but she hadn't exchanged more than just a few words with them.

Besides, Sydney . . . Corrine was sure she was going to be nervous around Sydney no matter how long they knew one another. She was incredibly petite, but her personality more than made up for her size. She was beautiful, too, with her violet hair and her striking gray eyes. Corrine could barely remember was happened during the movie―no matter how hard she tried to focus, she kept glancing over at the girl and getting distracted. Sydney had fallen asleep within minutes of starting the movie, her head resting against the cushion of the couch and her legs splayed in front of her, her hands lying palm-up on either side of her thighs.

Corrine spent most of the evening wishing she could think of something to talk to her about, so it just felt right to try and offer her a ride home when it became clear that neither McKenzie nor Arlie were in any shape to drive. She wasn't planning on getting elbowed in the face, though. _That_ was embarrassing.

Corrine was pulled from her thoughts by her pocket vibrating, the loud _ding_ of her text alert echoing around the empty living room. She moved her hand from her hair to her face, using her thumb and index finger to rub the swollen bridge of her nose gently, wincing when she grazed the exact spot where Sydney's elbow had hit her face.

Her phone _ding_ ed again. She let go of her nose and pushed herself off the wall, turning to walk down the hall. She went into her room and grabbed her pajamas (her softest long-sleeved shirt, her aloe-infused fuzzy socks, and a pair of maroon yoga pants) before going into the bathroom, piling her clothes onto the counter and pulling her phone out of her pocket as she got undressed. Whomever had texted her could wait until she lied down for a response.

She started the shower and got in, shivering beneath the icy spray while she waited for the water to heat up. Fortunately, the water heater in her unit was high-quality, so it was able to heat the water to the correct temperature in less than a minute.

Corrine held her breath as she tilted her face up into the spray, doing her best to ignore the pain as the water went into her nose and washed out some of the leftover blood and vomit that had escaped up into her nasal cavity. She was only able to last a few seconds before the throbbing, burning sensation was too much for her to handle.

She turned out of the spray and tilted her face downwards, letting the filthy water flow out of her nostrils. The water from the shower beat against her shoulders in heavy bursts, relaxing her tense shoulders. She grabbed her favorite shampoo and washed her hair, doing her best to make sure she got any vomit that had stuck to her completely out.

Once Corrine was completely clean and the scalding water had turned back to cold, she got out and dried herself, grimacing as the worn towel scratched against her skin. She didn't dry off completely, though, so when she pulled on her pajamas, they stuck to her skin in the most uncomfortable of places.

She grabbed her clothes and her phone, throwing her clothes in her laundry basket and turning off the light before pulling the covers back and climbing into bed, grabbing her heating pad from the nightstand and situating it on its highest setting against her back. She opened her text messages and sent a message to Allison to tell her she was going to bed before she opened her conversation with Dragon Chick, where she had two unread messages waiting for her.

_From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.10.2018. 00:03) So? Sharks may have more teeth but velociraptors have FEATHERS. Besides, they basically had sloth claws. What do sharks have? NOT CLAWS, that's what._

_From: Dragon Chick (Sent 09.10.2018. 00:05) I totally meant to send that earlier but I guess a fell asleep before I sent it. I'm sorry._ She had inserted a sad face at the end.

Corrine slid down further into her bed, adjusting the positioning of the heating pad as a hotspot burned her through her shirt. She pulled her blankets up to her chest and put her charger into the base of her phone. She began to type.

_From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 00:23) Don't worry about it. Long day?_

She sent the message and let out a long breath, closing her eyes and counting her breathing, something she had done since she was a child when she went to bed. She kept her phone on her chest in case she got a text in response, but if the other girl was so tired that she fell asleep in the middle of typing out a message, she probably fell asleep waiting for a response, too.

A vibration on her chest a minute later told Corrine that she was wrong. She opened her eyes and read the message, yawning as she tried to formulate a response.

_From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.10.2018. 00:25) Long week is more like it. We've been short at work so I've been doing doubles almost every day, plus tonight I'm pretty sure I managed to Molotov a new friendship, so you know, I have that going for me, too._

Corrine raised an eyebrow. In all of the conversations she had had with Dragon Chick (they had been texting on an almost constant basis, so there was _plenty_ ), the other girl had never sounded so negative. Nearly all of her messages had a playful tone to them, if not slightly cocky.

She flipped her phone back and forth in her hand while she thought of a way to respond. She twisted her mouth up to the side and began to type.

_From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 00:29) Well, as far as new friendships go, at least you have me, and I think you're pretty awesome._

She sent the message, her heartbeat quickening. She hoped that the message didn't make Dragon Chick uncomfortable. Yeah, they texted a lot, but what if she just saw Corrine as a distraction, as someone to talk to just to pass the time?

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again and typing another message.

_From: Me (09.10.2018. 00:30) Hey I'm falling asleep so I'll talk to you in the morning. Good night._

She sent the message and switched her phone to silent before putting it on the nightstand face-down. She adjusted her heating pad again and rolled onto her side, closing her eyes and matching her breathing with the ticking of the clock on her wall. She was tempted to roll over and see if the girl had responded to what she said, but an even bigger part was terrified to look. No, it was a much better idea for her to get some rest first. Besides, she had more job-hunting to do, and she shouldn't do that without sleeping.

Confrontation could wait until tomorrow.

 

 

 

10

Sydney groggily rubbed her eyes as she woke up, sitting up in bed and letting the blankets pool around her waist. Her head was pounding, and her mouth felt like she had drunken a bottle of sand in her sleep She grabbed her water bottle off her nightstand and sucked on the straw, forcing herself to drink the entire thing even though the water going down her throat made it feel like she was swallowing glass.

Once she was done, Sydney put her bottle back onto the nightstand and put her feet on the floor. She started as the cold seeped through the hole in her sock, sending goosebumps up her calves and prickling her thighs. She ran her foot over the ground in circles, kicking under the bed in search of her slippers. Once she found them, she stuffed her feet inside and stood up, scuffling out of her room and down the hallway towards the kitchen. Her stomach growled loudly, sending a burst of bile up to the back of her throat and making it burn.

Sydney started to go towards the fridge, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw something sitting on the counter. It was a white bag  with a large “N” and  a blue orchid on the front of it, a note dangling from the top of the bag. Sydney walked over and took the note off, her brows furrowing as she unfolded it.

_Morning, Sydney—_

_Hope these hangover treats make up for making you find a ride last night._

_M_

Sydney shook her head and put the note down on the counter before  opening the bag, grinning when she saw two chocolate croissants and a large, crumbling molasses cookie. She pulled out one of the croissants and took a bite, letting out a content moan as the dark-chocolate goo spread out over her tongue. God, she had been craving these ever since she had mentioned to Car Girl how amazing they were . . . and that cookie? It put her mother’s _and_ her grandmother’s recipes to shame.

She took another bite of the croissant before going to her fridge and pulling out a half-gallon of milk. She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, some of the milk escaping and trickling down her chin. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm before taking another bite. This time, some of the chocolate oozed out of the hole in the center of the bite. She licked it before chuckling, darting her tongue out and clearing the stickiness from off her lips.

Sydney grabbed a damp washcloth before going into her room and sitting cross-legged on her bed, her back pressed against the cool side of her memory foam pillow. She picked up her phone off the night table and unplugged it, frowning when she didn't see any messages from Car Girl. Normally by the early afternoon she had two or three, if not four or five, messages front the girl, and now she didn't even have _one_. She had been worried she had been too flirty with her response about their friendship, and it looked like she had gotten her answer.

She wanted to say something to fix things, but she had no idea where she should even start. She took another bite of her breakfast while she pondered, opening the other messages she had received throughout the morning. There were two from Kate, and one from McKenzie. She read the one from McKenzie first.

_From: McKenzie (Received 09.10.2018. 10:27) I'm sure you saw the bag already but breakfast is on the counter for you―try not to sleep all day! Arlie and I are going to drive down to her old college to see some of her friends―I won't be home until tomorrow night. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!_

Sydney raised an eyebrow. She didn't care what McKenzie did, but she wished that the girl didn’t give in to Arlie’s wants to easily. They had only been together for a few months, and already Sydney was afraid that her best friend was going to get hurt. She had given her everything to more boys and girls than Sydney could count, and it always came back to her with one less piece than it left her with.

As much as Sydney wanted to protect McKenzie, though, it was McKenzie's life, and Sydney had no business trying to control her. Maybe she’d be wrong about Arlie, and everything would go fine.

Sydney wrote a response, barely noticing what she typed as she tried not to think about all the failed relationships McKenzie had had in the past. _From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 14:26) Thank you for breakfast. Have fun!_

Sydney sent the message and took another bite, coughing when a bit of the pastry got stuck in her throat. She really should have brought that jug of milk into the bedroom with her.

She sat her phone back on the night table and went into the kitchen, grabbing the gallon of milk and pouring some into a glass that McKenzie had left sitting on the counter. She poured in a few spoonfuls of Ovaltine and mixed it up, taking another drink before going back into her bedroom and opening her messages from Kate.

The first message was time stamped from an hour before the restaurant opened on Sundays, and the second closer to their normal brunch rush. _From: Kate-the-Great (Received 09.10.2018. 09:57) Marion said you got a resume from someone the other day for advertising? The hell, bro? You know we need people, why didn't you give it to me?_

_From: Kate-the-Great (Received 12:47) I seriously hate this place, you know that? Mr. Your-Ass-is-my-Ass won't stop sitting in my section. I mean, at least leave me a decent tip if you're going to ogle me._

Sydney shook her head and started to type out a response, but before she could, she received another message from Kate. _From: Kate-the-Great (Received 09.10.2018. 14:32) I totally don't get why you didn't give me Ms. Gorgeous's resume―she's seriously one of the sweetest people I've ever met here and she's hot as hell. Needs to learn how to use concealer, though, black-eyes aren't necessarily the best thing to wear when job-hunting._

Sydney leaned back against her headboard and groaned, closing her eyes for a moment before leaning forward and replying to the text. _From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 14:33) I meant to give you the resume, but my clumsy-ass spilt a pitcher of drinks on it. Did she say how she got the black eyes?_

She sent the message and climbed off her bed, grabbing her laptop and taking it out into the living room. She curled up on the couch with her favorite heated throw blanket with her laptop on her thighs and the remote for her Roku in her hand. She turned on the last episode of _Forensic Files_ that she had started, fast-forwarding through the intro while she waited for her laptop to boot up. Once it did, she tucked the remote into a pocket on the blanket and opened up a web browser to search easy cookie recipes.

Just as Sydney started to narrow down the recipes (and the television show had begun to narrow down the evidence), she felt her phone vibrate against her thigh. She moved her laptop enough for her to reach the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled her phone out. She had, once again, hoped to hear from Car Girl, but it was just another message from Kate.

_From: Kate-the-Great (Received 09.10.2018. 14:46) She didn't say anything so I didn't ask. Does it really matter how?_

Sydney bit her lip and hesitated before typing out what had happened the night before. _From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 14:49) So, funny story, last night Donny had me and a bunch of other people over, right? His friend, Allison, brought Corrie with them to hang out and I may or may not have been the reason that her face is all bruised._

She sent the message and put her phone on the arm of the couch and tried to focus on her recipes again, but her cheeks were burning. Hopefully Corrine would accept a plate of cookies as an apology. Corrine may have already said that she wasn’t angry with Sydney over the accident, but that didn’t mean that Sydney didn’t need to make it up to her, anyway. She downloaded the recipes for dark-chocolate toffee cookies and for almond cookies, two of her personal favorites. She had no idea what type of cookie Corrine liked, so she figured it was best to go with flavors that she was at least somewhat familiar with. If Corrine really hated either one, Sydney could always try and make her something else.

_Briiiiiiiiing!_

Sydney jumped as her phone began to play her ringtone at the loudest volume. She quickly grabbed it and answered, too desperate to silence the screeching sound to look and see who was calling. Besides, there was a very limited number of people who called her, and she had only sprung news on one of the them.

Sure enough, it was Kate’s voice that echoed out of the phone’s speaker. Sydney wasn’t surprised in the least that Kate had called, but she thought that she had a little bit of time before Kate could talk. “What do you mean that you're the reason she's all bruised up?! Did you punch her in the face?!” The restaurant was loud in the background, and at least one of the waiters was complaining at Kate for being on her phone instead of helping them.

Sydney put her laptop on the cushion next to her and pulled her legs up to her chest, closing her eyes and trying not to get distracted by all the noise. “It was an accident.”

“Doesn’t matter, I—dammit, Tyler, use your head and get more forks, then, if they don’t want to use a spoon―I still want the whole story.”

“There really isn't that much to tell. I was lying on the couch, I jerked my arm, her face was in the way, end of story.”

“Sydney, that's not the end of the story and you know it. You don’t give a girl two black eyes just by bumping into her. What really happened?”

Sydney sighed and rubbed her eyes. Gosh, she could go back to bed right now. “I didn't want to go to Donny's in the first place, but McKenzie said there would be just a couple of us, so I agreed. I guess Donny invited his other friends, who invited Corrie. I was already exhausted from this past week so I crashed after, like, the first ten minutes―”

“You always do that, that's nothing new.”

“―in the _first ten minutes_ ,” Sydney paused and cleared her throat. “I guess I slept through, like, another movie or two, and Arlie and McKenzie got _way_ too smashed to take me home, so Corrie asked Donny's friend Allison to take me and her home since we live in the same building―”

“Back up, she's hot _and_ lives in the same building? Where?”

“At the end of the hall, where Mr. Thomas was. Now do you want to hear the story or do you want to interrupt me again?”

“Sorry. Carry on.”

Sydney let out a huffed breath and shook her head. “Anyway, Allison agreed to take me home, too, so Corrie tried to wake me up, and I rolled over and elbowed her in the face as hard as I could.” She rubbed her hand over her face. “You know, the right way, like we learned in those self-defense classes you made me take with you last year.”

“Oh, shit! Was there a lot of blood or was she just upset and achy?”

“No, there was a fair amount of blood.  I helped her clean up but it got all over both of our clothes and all over Donny’s sink. Looked like a freaking murder scene or something. She threw up the whole way home, too, but I couldn't tell you if she was carsick or if it was all of the blood that had gone down her throat.”

Kate scoffed before she busting out laughing. “Wow. It sounds like you really made an ‘a-plus’ impression on her.  Maybe I shouldn't have hired her.”

Sydney nearly dropped the phone in shock, her breath catching and her heart stopping. “Really, Kate? She brought her resume in for a marketing position that doesn’t exist. We don't even have a marketing department, and we don't need one!”

“No, but we need servers, and Corrine said that she's willing to work part-time while she plants her roots and finds something that's more in her field.” She clicked her tongue before chuckling. “I swear, Sydney, if I had been at Donny's with you when you elbowed her, you'd never hear the end of it at the restaurant―okay, fine, fine! I'm jumping behind the bar now, okay? Well then tell table five it'll be a minute, they're already completely sma―” There was a loud crashing sound, followed by Kate groaning. “I'll text you tonight, Sydney, if I'm not in jail for burning this place down.”

“Okay, Kate. Remember, the matches are in a box above the stove and if you need to hide a body, don't do it in the woods behind the restaurant. That's the first place cops will look.” Sydney could hear Kate yelling at one of the servers again as she hung up the phone. She put it back on the table beside her and pressed the back of her head into the top of the couch.

She rested in that position with her eyes closed for several minutes before lifting her head and looking at the television. She was glad that she had chosen a show that she didn't have to focus too hard on to understand what was going on. She barely had the brain function to consciously pay attention to herself nonetheless anything else.

Regardless, even speaking to Kate had been draining, and now all she wanted to do was sleep. She had most of the ingredients for the cookies in her kitchen already, anyway, so all the time she would have to devote to her apology bake would be the time making the dough and the time she spent actually baking the cookies. She could do that in less than an hour, which meant that she had _plenty_ of time to nap.

Sydney moved her laptop from the couch to the coffee table, going into her music files and starting her classical playlist. She normally only used it when she needed to drown out the noises coming from McKenzie's room, but it would help her relax and wind down from her conversation with Kate.

She adjusted her volume and turned the heat up on the blanket to the highest level it would go. She pulled it up to her neck and snuggled into it, yawning and sniffling as she buried her head into the pillow and her body into the cushions. The couch was old (she had purchased it used as a birthday present to herself a few years back), but the worn cushions had retained their puff remarkably well, her shoulder and hip only dropping down a few centimeters.

She timed her breathing with the music, counting the beats in her head and blurring the feeling of her body falling asleep with the gentle piano and intense cello harmonies.

It took less than five minutes before she was fast asleep.

 

 

 

11

Corrine collapsed against her door as she shut it, dropping her messenger bag to the floor and closing her eyes. She sighed loudly, exhaling out the stress of the day. Scepter heard the noise and came bounding down the hall, lunging at Corrine's feet and nipping at her ankles.

Corrine opened her eyes and leaned her head forward, looking down over her nose at the excited kitten. She slid down the wall and kicked her legs out, picking up Scepter and kissing her nose. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” she said, holding the kitten against her chest and scratching the back of her head.

Scepter accepted the cuddles for a few minutes before she began to get squirmy, her entire body moving as she tried to wrestle with Corrine's hands. Corrine put her down and watched as she pounced on a moth that had snuck in through the front door. The moth was too fast, and Scepter fell over onto her back, her legs kicking manically in the air as she tried to catch the insect from her new angle.

Corrine smiled at the sight and shifted, pulling her legs under her and rotating onto her knees. She pushed herself up and grabbed her bag. She took it into the living room and tossed it into her favorite chair, a squishy leather seat that could fit at least two, if not three, people comfortably. She went into her bedroom and grabbed a pair of lounge pants, a tee-shirt, and a pair of underwear before going into the bathroom and hopping into the shower, washing herself quickly before relaxing under the hot water.

Corrine stayed in the shower until the water turned icy. She got out and got dressed, grimacing as she stepped in a puddle of water and got the hem of her pants wet. She went back into her room and put on a pair of socks and her slippers, wrinkling her nose when she felt the damp fabric brush against her ankles. She pulled her socks up to her calf so that the hem wouldn’t touch her again.

Once Corrine was comfortable, she went into her living room and grabbed her phone off the charger, where she had left it when she left the apartment in the morning. She had been so anxious about selling herself at two different interviews that she had forgotten her phone, her granola bars, and her driver’s license sitting on the end table in the living room.

She dropped down onto the couch and unlocked the phone, biting her lip when she saw her refection in the screen. Her eyes really did look bad, but at least the swelling on her nose still didn’t make it look crooked. She had tried to use makeup to make the bruising look less obvious, but she had never been any good at contouring, or blending, or anything else that had to do with makeup. Each stroke of her makeup brushes made the dark-purple bruise look even darker, so after nearly forty minutes of trying to fix it, she gave up and washed her face, making sure to get rid of every molecule of cover-up before reapplying her makeup.

Corrine rubbed her eyes, her eyelashes still feeling a bit crusty from the mascara that didn’t come off during her shower. She yawned and went back to unlocking the device, going to her messages. Surprisingly, she didn’t have that many: two from her brother, and one from Dragon Chick. She skipped past the conversation with James and opened up the latter message, pursing her lips bashfully as she realized that the text she had typed out when she woke up had never sent. She had been nervous about what Dragon Chick would say about Corrine’s blatant flirting, but she hadn’t seemed to care, responding with how much she was enjoying talking to Corrine, too.

The topic had changed now, though, so Corrine hit the backspace button until her response box was empty and she could view the last message sent to her.

_From: Dragon Chick (Received 09.10.2018. 15:10) So. Question time. If you had to go back and meet anyone in the world, from any place, at any time, where would you go and who would you meet?_

Corrine smiled. Dragon Chick and she had already covered the basics (favorite color, favorite food, favorite animal, and so on and so forth), and had moved on to these strange hypothetical questions that really made Corrine think. She tapped her foot on the ground and rubbed her thumbs against the screen while she thought about her answer.

After a few minutes, Corrine started to type. _From: Me (Sent 09.10.2018. 19:17) That’s a good question. I think I would go back and meet Lord Byron. I’ve always loved his poetry._

She sent the message and put her phone on the arm of the couch, pulling her legs up onto the couch and grabbing the remote off the coffee table. She turned on her Netflix and scrolled through the new releases, watching a few trailers and reading descriptions as she tried to find something mindless to watch. Now that she had showered and had sat down, she was ready to relax and not move.

Unfortunately, right as Corrine phone vibrated with Dragon Chick’s response, there was a knock on her front door. She groaned and uncrossed her legs, her hips popping as she pushed herself off the couch. She rolled a rubber band off her wrist and pulled her hair back into a lose ponytail, an eyebrow raising in confusion as she peeked through the eyehole.

Sydney was standing on the other side of the door in a pair of ripped jeans and a black tank top, holding a platter of something covered with foil in her hand. Her hair was in a fishtail braid over her shoulder, the dark-violet at the ends of her hair nearly glowing against the dark fabric of her shirt. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but her long eyelashes made it feel like her gaze was going straight though the door.

Corrine swallowed and adjusted her clothing, loosening her jacket around her chest to make it less obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. She pushed the strands of hair that weren't staying in her ponytail away from her face and coughed quietly into her hand, making sure that her breath smelled okay.

She shook her shoulders to try and rid herself of some of her anxiety before reaching down to the knob and pulling the door open. Sydney's hand was poised to knock again, but she lowered it back down to her side, her cheeks reddening.

“Uhm, I made you these,” Sydney said, her voice trembling slightly. “You know, to make up for almost breaking your nose and all.” She held the platter out.

Corrine took the plate from her hand. “You don't have to make anything up to me. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me―I'm the one who snuck up on you, not the other way around.” She took the foil off, her eyes widening when she saw the cookies on her plate. Her mouth watered from the sight of them alone. “Oh! Dark-chocolate and toffee! That's my all-time favorite! How did you know?”

Sydney shrugged, her cheeks becoming more flushed. Corrine thought it made her eyes stand out even more. “I don't know what you like, but they're my favorite, too, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I made my famous almond shortbread cookies, too, in case you hated the chocolate ones.” She pointed at the light-brown cookies that were along the outside of the plate.

“My mom makes the _best_ almond shortbread cookies,” Corrine teased, her eyes twinkling as she broke off a piece of the almond cookie. Once it touched her tongue, all thoughts of joking flew away. “Oh, my God, these blow my mom's out of the water. Come on, come share these with me.” She reached down and grabbed Sydney's wrist, beginning to pull her into the apartment. She stopped, however, after only two steps, when she realized that Sydney wasn't moving with her. She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and breathed in though her nose as she turned around. “I mean, you're more than welcome to stay and eat cookies with me. I wasn't planning on doing anything tonight other than watching some Netflix and playing with my cat. You’re more than welcome to join.”

Sydney didn't respond, and Corrine's heart rate sped up. She really, _really_ wanted to spend more time with Sydney (the girl was beautiful _and_ thoughtful), but it had been so long since she had spent time with someone she had a new attraction to that she wasn't entirely sure how she was supposed to proceed. She normally knew if her love interest preferred the company of women or of men, but with Sydney, she was completely in the dark.

It felt like ages had gone by by the time Sydney responded, but in reality, it wasn't even a solid twenty seconds before Sydney nodded and followed Corrine into the living room. She sat down on the couch and looked over at Corrine, waiting for her to do the same.

Corrine, however, felt a breeze on her chest as she moved her arms over her jacket. “Let me, uhm, just, uhm . . . ” She waved her hand in the general direction of her bedroom.

She wasn't sure if Sydney knew what Corrine was going to do, but the other girl nodded anyway, taking one of the chocolate cookies off the plate and settling into the couch. She found the button on the side of the arm that kicked the recliner out, crossing her legs at the ankles and resting her head in her left hand, her elbow pressed into the arm of the couch. She grabbed the remote off the pillow pressed against her hip and went back to the Netflix homepage.

Corrine went into her bedroom and shut the door, leaning against the doorframe and closing her eyes before pushing herself forward and going over to the closet. She took off her jacket and her tee-shirt before grabbing a sports bra and a long-sleeved thermal. She pulled both on and closed her closet, going over by her bed and putting on her slippers.

She opened the door and started back towards the living room, stopping at the mirror in the hallway to check her appearance. The swelling in her nose had seemed to go down, although the dark bruises around her eyes had gotten worse. The deep-purple had moved from under her eyes to a quarter of a way down her cheeks, and her eyelids looked like she had overdone it on the eyeshadow and eyeliner. Her eyes were still watery, and there were chunks of yellow gunk that wouldn't stop leaking from her tear ducts, no matter how many times she cleaned them out.

She stepped into the bathroom and turned the sink on, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and doing her best to wipe away the worst of the dried pus. The bruising detracted from her attractiveness on its own, but bruises _and_ leaking, goop-filled eyes? She wouldn't stand a chance.

Corrine cleaned her eyes as best she could, pressing the tips of her fingers into her tear ducts and forcing more of the goo out. Unfortunately, all that the pressure amounted to was making her eyes look even _more_ swollen and discolored.

She sighed and turned off the water, grabbing a good towel that was hanging over the toilet and dabbing away the water as gently as she could. She folded it up and put it back (normally, she'd just toss it over the shower curtain to dry, but she didn't want Sydney to think she was a _total_ slob). She fiddled with the soap dispenser and the lucky bamboo she had sitting in a corner before finally working up the nerve to go back out into the living room.

Sydney was still curled up in the corner of the couch, but she had decided to go to Corrine’s list and had picked out a movie that, surprisingly, Corrine had not watched either during her relationship with Billie or during the time after their breakup. She and Billie had stopped watching movies together during the last year and a half of their relationship, but it had provided a decent escape when the fighting and accusations got bad.

She grabbed two cookies off the platter (one of each type) and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling her throw blanket off the floor and covering her legs with it. She ate the cookies slowly, savoring each bite before reaching down and grabbing a few more cookies. Sydney was doing the same thing, smiling tightly and chuckling under her breath when their hands brushed.

Corrine tried to pay attention to the movie that they were watching, but she realized as they got further and further into the movie that she couldn’t remember the main character’s name, nonetheless the actual plot of the film. Her mind was racing. She knew that a physical attraction was nothing to really stress out over, but it had been so long since she had felt those butterflies in her stomach, that desire just to stare at her and take in all of that beauty of her features, that she didn’t remember how she was supposed to act.

She was distracted from her thoughts by Sydney jumping, her foot shooting out and bouncing off Corrine’s thigh. “What the hell was that?” Sydney asked, using her hands to push herself up and balance on the couch cushion, her eyes wide and darting around the room.

Corrine reached down and gently squeezed her ankle in comfort before leaning forward and laughing. Scepter was sitting below the footrest of the recliner, her head cocked to the side as she studied the fabric above her head before she lunged up and swiped at the side of Sydney’s foot. Sydney jumped again, straining her upper body over the arm of the couch so that she could see below the recliner.

Her whole body deflated in relief when she saw that her mysterious attacker was a six-month-old kitten. “Oh, hello.” She reached her hand out and scooped Scepter up, cradling her close to her chest and scratching between her ears. She kissed her on the nose and moved her hand so that it was cradling her backside. She looked up at Corrine. “I can see why you’d spend the night playing at home with this little one. She’s so cute! What’s her name?”

“Scepter.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting name for a cat, don’t you think?”

Corrine flushed and shrugged. “My ex was real big on giving animals human names so when I adopted Scepter a few days before I moved out, I went in the opposite direction.”

Sydney snorted, leaning her head against the back of the sofa and moving Scepter so that she was snuggled up against Sydney’s stomach, her head resting on the sliver of skin that Sydney’s stretching had revealed. “I bet he just loved that.”

“Yeah, she acted like I was the biggest idiot in the world, and refused to call her anything other than ‘Gertrude’ for the rest of the week.” She bit her lip, wondering if Sydney would have something to say about Corrine’s ex being a woman.

Sydney shuddered, but it wasn’t for Billie’s gender. “God, what an awful name. Can you imagine, this adorable little thing as a ‘Gertrude’?” She picked Scepter back up and held her in front of her face, holding up her paws and making it look like she was dancing. “Here’s ‘Gertrude’, the amazing performing kitten! She starts her day with a glass of prune juice, she yells at the neighborhood kids to get off her lawn, and she goes to bed at exactly five o’clock on the dot.” By the end of her story, she was almost laughing too hard to speak.

Corrine couldn’t help but laugh, too, the image of Scepter dressed up as a crotchety old maid filling her mind. “Billie worked from home, too, so I guess I’m lucky that she responds _to_ Scepter instead of accepting such an awful name. I suppose I could have called her ‘Gertie’ if I had to, but that makes me think of someone pulling their gertie down and their rolls of fat spilling out over the top.”

“That’s a _girdle_ , silly, not a ‘gertie,’” Sydney teased, kicking Corrine’s thigh playfully. Corrine pushed her foot away, but Sydney did it again. Corrine tried to hold her ground, but when Sydney kicked her a _third_ time, Corrine couldn’t help herself. She grabbed Sydney’s foot and began to tickle her heel, her own laughter starting back up when Sydney let out a loud squeal. Scepter’s fur stood up at the sound and she launched herself off the chair as Sydney tried to yank her foot back.

Now it was Corrine’s turn to tease. “Oh, is someone ticklish?”

Sydney tried to pull her foot back again, but she was laughing too hard to really use too much force. “Stop, Corrie,” she said in-between gasps for air, her eyes streaming and her leg muscles twitching. Her smile stretched from ear to ear, spots of pink high on her cheeks. She was moving so much that her hair was beginning to come out of its braid, falling around her shoulders and curling slightly.

Corrine found herself unable to look away, and as she grabbed Sydney’s other foot and began to tickle that as well, only one thought was echoing through her head: she wanted to spend more time around this girl.

 

 

 

12

The next several months flew by in a blur, and Sydney found herself happier than she had been in some time. Corrine had been working at _La Bella Flor_ for a little over ten weeks, and had been hanging out with Sydney both at work and at home nearly every night. They had turned every Thursday evening into a movie night (they were both off on Fridays), and had started to take a few baking classes together. Sydney had a hard time talking to Corrine at first, but it didn’t take long before she found herself falling head-over-heels for the girl.

Her friendship with Corrine wasn’t the only relationship that was growing closer, however. She and Car Girl had been sending each other dozens of texts nearly every day. They talked about everything from favorite Girl Scout cookies to their most embarrassing moments. They wrote one-line stories with one another. They shared their love over BBC shows. They made fun of politicians, and had competitions to see who could come up with the worst puns.

The one thing that the girls had not done, however, was share their names. They had discussed it a few weeks after they had started speaking, but there was something that was invigorating about having a texting-buddy that wasn’t someone Sydney saw on a semi-normal basis. She could be completely honest without having to worry about something coming up on Facebook or something circling around her job. McKenzie thought it was strange that Sydney spent so much time texting a faceless entity, and warned her to be careful, but Sydney thought it was exciting. She knew that they would have to share their names eventually, but for the time being, she was content.

It was on a Thursday in January, however, that everything changed. Sydney’s day was a disaster before she ever arrived at work. McKenzie and Arlie had broken up the night before (for the fourth time since Halloween), which meant that McKenzie’s “heartbreak” playlist was playing at the loudest volume until the early hours of the morning. Sydney finally fell asleep a little before three, but she was so overtired that she ended up sleeping through her alarm and had to rush through her morning routine. She had grabbed a premade smoothie and a granola bar from the kitchen, but the granola bar was dotted with the mold and she managed to spill her smoothie all over her uniform.

Sydney hoped that things would be normal at work, but she had been so distracted by trying to wipe the smoothie off her pants with an old receipt that she didn’t notice the front of her car going straight towards the row of trees lining the road leading to the restaurant. She used her hand to stretch out the fabric of her pants, her toes pointing and her foot pushing down harder on the gas pedal than she meant it to. The car lurched forward and swerved in the wet grass, slamming straight into one of the trees at nearly forty-five mph, more than fifteen mph over the speed limit.

The airbag knocking the wind out of her was the first thing that alerted Sydney that something wasn’t right. Her sternum and her hip bones bounced against the seatbelt and her head dropped forward, banging her forehead against the top of the steering wheel. Her front windshield had shattered, showering her with tiny shards of glass that embedded themselves in her skin. She could feel blood trickling from the cut on her forehead, and even trying to move the fingers on her left hand caused too much pain than she could bear.

She tried to sit back up, but her seatbelt had locked when she fell forward, making it impossible for her to straighten up more than an inch. She wanted to reach down and unbuckle it, but the airbag had smashed into the buckle with such force that the button was stuck.

Sydney closed her eyes and whimpered, trying desperately not to panic. Her parents had taught her to keep a safety cutter on each of the seat belts for exactly this reason, but she hadn't listened, throwing the cutters in the glove box instead. She didn't think she had ever regretted anything more.

She reached down again and fiddled with the buckle, using her thumbnail to scrape along the crevices. She knew it was unlikely to work, but she didn't know what other option she had. She hadn't been on an abandoned road, but the twisty two-lane street didn't get very much traffic other than people going back and forth between the neighborhoods and the main roads, and while it occasionally got busy, it was a weekday, not a weekend. Who knew how long it would be before someone drove past and saw her car.

Her thumbnail barely fit inside the crevice, and when she pushed down, the tip of her nail bent backwards and snapped. She let out a hiss of pain, lifting her hand up and examining it, her eyes widening when she saw new cuts littering her palm and her knuckles. She hadn't felt any broken glass when she had reached down, but the blood trickling out of the scratches and cuts didn't lie.

She turned her head so that her cheek was on the steering wheel and her face was turned towards the passenger seat, the worn leather cool against her face. She could see her phone sitting on the far side of the seat instead of in the cup holder where she usually kept it. She held her hand out and tried to grab the device, but it was just centimeters out of her reach. She held her breath and tried to reach farther, but the locked seatbelt became even tighter the more that she moved and made her feel even more trapped.

She closed her eyes as she moved her shoulders, suddenly feeling incredibly light-headed. She didn't think at she had lost enough blood for it to be an issue, but she must have hit her head harder than she thought. It was getting harder to breathe, too, and her mouth felt like it was full of liquid. She tried to run her tongue over her teeth, but she didn't even have the energy to do that.

Sydney's thoughts became even more jumbled when she opened her eyes, her vision now too blurry to even make out the wording on the airbag in front of her. Her ears were roaring, and she suddenly felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured down her back, and then suddenly, everything went black.

Everything was black.

 

 

 

13

Corrine hummed to herself as she pulled her workpants and a long-sleeved black sweater out of her closet. She was in a surprisingly good mood, even with the double shift she was going to be working that night. She was scheduled as a hostess for the night rather than her normal serving position, but her coworker, Elena, had come down with a nasty case of the chicken pox, and there wasn’t anyone available to work besides Corrine. It was going to be a long day, but Sydney was already at the restaurant, so at least they could spend time together while they worked.

Corrine smiled when she thought about the other girl. They had become good friends over the last couple of months, and Corrine had found herself falling _hard_. She now knew that Sydney was primarily interested in women, but every time she tried to suggest that they change their outings from a friend-thing to a date, her anxiety got the better of her and she chickened out.

She kept chickening out of having a conversation with Dragon Chick about what she should do about her crush, too. Allison had guessed how she felt only a few weeks after Corrine figured it out herself, but while they had been each other’s confidant in high school, there was something that just didn’t feel right about getting advice about what to do. With Dragon Chick, it should have been easy to ask. The other girl and she had kept their identities secret from one another, so there wasn’t any need to worry about if Sydney would find out before she was ready to tell her.

With that thought in mind, Corrine went over to her phone and unlocked the home screen, frowning when she saw that she didn’t have any messages. She put the device in her pocket and shut off the bedroom light, going out into the hallway and pulling on her shoes. She grabbed her jacket off the hook and put it on, patting the pocket to make sure that her keys were where she normally kept them. Before she could pull the keys out, however, her phone rang.

It was Kate, Corrine’s boss. “Hey, Kate. I’m about to leave my apartment now. What’s up? Is my shift changing?”

“No, but I needed to ask you something. Have you seen Sydney? She was supposed to be in a half-hour ago and I can’t get ahold of her.”

Corrine’s brows furrowed, deep wrinkles lining her forehead. “No, I haven’t. Do you want me to knock on her door and see if she’s there?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll call you back in a few minutes.” Corrine hung up the phone and left her apartment, shutting the door and locking it behind her before making her way over to Sydney’s front door. She knocked, rocking back on her heels and stuffing her hands in her pocket. There was no response, so after a few minutes had gone by, Corrine tried again.

This time, McKenzie answered. She leaned against the doorframe as she squinted her eyes at Corrine. She looked like she hadn’t slept, her hair a tangled, oily mess and her eyes rimmed with red. Corrine tried not to judge other people, but the smell of beer and whiskey that overloaded her senses when McKenzie exhaled made her question the reliability of the other girl.

“Uhm, is Sydney here?” she asked, lifting a hand up and messing with the hair at the base of her skull.

McKenzie leaned further down on the doorframe, her socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor. She yawned, and Corrine had to force herself not the grimace as the alcoholic smell grew even worse. McKenzie leaned her head over and shut her eyes, moving her shoulders and adjusting again. “She works today, Corrie, you know that,” she said, her words slurring together to form one long phrase.

Corrine nodded. Maybe Sydney thought she was supposed to be at work later in the day than she really was. That made sense, right? She wouldn’t call and let Kate know that she was going to be late if she didn’t think she was going to _be_ late. “Do you know what time she was supposed to go in?”

McKenzie groaned and opened her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and wrinkling her nose at Corrine. “Same time as it’s been all week. Ten in the morning until five at night, or six, or something like that. I don’t know, she left at nine-thirty.” She belched and giggled, pushing her fist against her stomach and trying to work more air out. It worked, but it came from a separate area of her body.

Normally, Corrine would be disgusted by McKenzie’s actions, but she was too worried to care. If Sydney had left at her normal time, why wasn’t she at work already? It didn’t make sense. Even if traffic was bad (it rarely was when driving to work—it was all back roads, the entire route) she should have gotten there within thirty minutes of her shift starting. It only took Corrine fifteen minutes to make the drive every morning and every afternoon that she worked, and she drove _extremely_ cautiously.

The news made Corrine even more nervous than she already was. “Have you heard from her since she left?”

“No, she normally will only text me when she is on break. Why are you so worried? Do you love her?” She drew the word “love” out, flicking her eyelashes in a teasing manner.

Corrine could feel her cheeks beginning to burn. She was glad that McKenzie was too intoxicated to notice. “Can you call her for me, please?”

“Don't you have her number? You two hang out, like, every day.”

Corrine shook her head. They spent so much time together that they didn't _need_ to call or text each other, and on the rare day that they didn't see each other, they just used Facebook messenger. If something was wrong, though, she didn't want to worry about the grainy, robotic echo that undermined the conversation with Facebook calling. Sydney's voice needed to be clear.

McKenzie sighed dramatically and pulled her phone out of her pocket, stumbling backwards slightly as her quick movement was too much for her alcohol-riddled system. She hit a button on the screen before holding the device up to her ear. She waited a minute before rolling her eyes, hitting the screen again before holding the phone out to Corrine. “I told you she doesn't answer when she's at work―just get the number from my phone and text her.” She tossed it to Corrine when she didn't grab it immediately. “Now if you would excuse, I need to throw up.”

She turned and quickly walked down the hall to the bathroom, barely closing the door before vomiting loudly. Corrine wrinkled her nose and looked down at the screen, running her thumb along the contact name to keep it from going to sleep. She unlocked her own phone and brought up the keypad, beginning to type the numbers into the screen.

When she was halfway through the number, however, she stopped in confusion. The area code and first three numbers brought up four different people in her phone, but the fourth number caused Dragon Chick's contact information to come up on the screen.

Corrine looked back and forth between the phones, her heart beginning to race when she saw that the numbers were identical. All this time, she had been talking to the girl she was crushing hard on. She had told her all of her secrets, her personal thoughts, her most private desires . . . What would Sydney think of her when she found out that it was Corrine's car that she had left her number on? Would their friendship suffer from all that had been revealed between them?

She bit her lip and tried not to panic. She had to be at work in twenty-five minutes, and if Sydney had just been stuck in traffic and was work, she needed to appear like nothing was wrong until she figured out a way to tell her what was going on.

Her grip on her phone tightened before she forced herself to lock the screen and put it back in her pocket. McKenzie's phone was still unlocked, though, so she sent a cautious glance at the bathroom door before pulling up her text conversations. She found the one with Sydney (their last discussion had been about things around the apartment they could make a Christmas tree out of, apparently) and typed out a message.

_From: McKenzie's iPhone (Sent 01.18.2018. 11:23) Hey Sydney, it's Corrie. Kate called me and said you hadn't come in to work and I don't have your number so McKenzie let me use hers. I'm about to leave the apartment so if you are at work already just ignore this message and I'll see you soon. If something is wrong with your car or you are in traffic or whatever, call Kate, please. She's worried about you._

Corrine read the message twice before hitting send, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before opening her eyes and putting McKenzie's phone on the entryway table. She exited the apartment and closed the door behind her, trying to ignore the lump in her throat as she walked back over to her own apartment and finished getting her things together for work.

Normally, Corrine drove like an old woman, but today she drove ten over the speed limit, far too worried about Sydney to focus on how hard she hit the pedal. She had to slow down a few miles from the house, traffic coming to almost a complete stop as she turned into the last back road that lead to work.

 _Sydney is probably stuck in this_ , she thought, the corners of her lips turning up in a smile. This had to be why Sydney was late! She probably had her music too loud to hear her phone vibrating (she had thrown her phone in the cup holder or in the center console every time Corrine and she had gone somewhere together), so it totally made sense that she wasn’t answering anyone’s calls or texts.

After a few minutes of going less than five miles per hour traffic started moving a little faster, but she was still going incredibly slow. Corrine didn't mind, though. Having a concrete reason for why Sydney was late made her feel worlds better, and she knew that Kate wouldn't care that Corrine was late for the same reason.

She could see flashing lights a Half-mile or so up the road, but she couldn't tell if they were from a fire truck or from an ambulance. She didn't hear any emergency sirens, so the road was probably just blocked by a fallen tree or by a dog. Billie's apartment had been on a back road, so there had been several times that she got stuck behind a wayward animal. The worst was when there was a gaggle of geese that had decided to cross the street all at once. There were at least ten adult birds, plus their babies, that invaded the street. A few of them had even decided to take a break, sitting down directly in front of the row of cars. This had to be the same thing.

Corrine strained her neck and pushed herself up on her seat, but she couldn't see anything around the other cars. She sat back down and leaned her head against her hand, keeping her foot on the brake as she crawled forward. She rolled her eyes at the sound of horns honking behind her, chuckling at how impatient people got in an uncontrollable situation.

After a few more minutes of slow traffic, however, Corrine’s world changed. Up ahead, on the side of the road, was  the result of quite a serious accident.

“Please don't be her,” she whispered as she swerved her car into the grass next to the road, ignoring the honks that were now directed at her. She turned off the car and jumped out, making her hands into fists and digging her nails into her palm as she rushed forward toward the accident.

At first Corrine wasn't sure that it was Sydney's car that was pressed up against the tree, but when she got closer, it was the Doctor Who stickers that covered the rear windshield gave it away. The hood of the car had been pressed into the body like it was made of aluminum foil, and the glass in all of the windows had shattered and was scattered on the ground. There were two police officers directing traffic onto the grass, alternating which direction the cars were going. There were two firefighters using some sort of large device to cut the roof of the car away. They were both completely drenched in sweat, leading Corrine to believe that they had been working at the removal for quite some time.

The worst sight of all, however, barely peaked through the crushed driver-side door, stopping Corrine in her tracks. There was a young woman in the seat with her forehead against the steering wheel, a large branch only inches away from her body. The air bag had deflated against her shoulder, dark-red pools gathering in the crevices. The woman's wrist was on her thigh, but her hand was flipped at an angle that was anything but natural.

As the roof of the vehicle finally began to give, a third fireman darted under the first to work on cutting the seat belt. Once that was cut through, the woman fell against the door, her head rolling back against her shoulder and revealing her face.

Corrine covered her mouth with her hand and let out a sob. There was fresh blood trickling down from the cut on Sydney's forehead, and her dark hair looked like she had just gotten out of the shower, it was so matted with blood. Her mouth was open, and Corrine could see a few teeth barely hanging on by the roots.

The firefighters managed to pull the roof the rest of the way off before stepping out of the way to make room for the paramedics. The medics stabilized Sydney's neck and back, keeping her as immobile as possible while they moved her to a stretcher and headed to the ambulance.

The paramedics had nearly reached gotten Sydney all the way into the back when Corrine's mind came back. She ran over to the scene of the accident, pushing her way through the firefighters and trying to get to the ambulance.

She was stopped by a young female cop only a few inches away from where Sydney was lying. “Ma'am, you shouldn't be over here. You need to leave.”

“I'm not leaving without Sydney,” Corrine answered, looking over the police officer's shoulder as the paramedics loaded the stretcher onto the ambulance. She tried to step around the woman again, but the police officer moved in step with her. Corrine glared at her. “Let me through.”

The police officer held her hands up and continued their dance. “Ma'am, I can't let you through. The paramedics need to take care of your friend, and they can't do that if you're in their way. They need room to save Ms. Cortazan's life.”

Corrine's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms over her stomach, the tears that had been bubbling up in the corners of her eyes falling as the paramedics working on Sydney shut the doors and began to drive off, the lights and sirens blaring once again. “Where are they taking her?” she asked quietly, wiping the tears away.

The officer gave her directions. Corrine went back to her car and got in, taking a moment to gather herself. She put her hands on the top of the steering wheel and rested her head against the back of her hands, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She needed to calm down before she got herself into the same situation as Sydney.

Corrine wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but before she knew it a tow truck had started to load Sydney's totaled vehicle and traffic was beginning to pick up speed. Corrine sat up and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She sent Kate a text to tell her what had happened and that she wasn't going to be at work before calling McKenzie, who answered on the second ring.

“Hullo?” she said, her voice still thick from the alcohol. “She was already at work, right? See, I told you she doesn't answer her phone if―”

“She's on her way to the hospital, McKenzie, in an ambulance,” Corrine interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “She crashed her car into a tree, and the whole front hood is gone . . . the police wouldn't let me get close to her but I could see her blood, oh my God, there was so much blood . . . ” She sucked in a breath, the constricting feeling in her throat returning. “Oh, God, I love her, McKenzie, I really do, and now she's unconscious, and I haven't told her I love her, and they told me where they were taking her, but they wouldn't tell me anything else because I'm not family, and does Sydney even have a family? She's never told me about them, and―”

“Corrie!” McKenzie interrupted, her voice suddenly much clearer. “You're panicking. Come back here and we will go to the hospital―I'll have Arlie take us. She may be pissed at me but she really likes you and Sydney. Just take a deep breath and get here, okay? Everything will be fine.”

Corrine nodded and pinched the bridge of her nose harder. “Okay. I will be home soon.” She disconnected the call and threw her phone on the passenger seat. She wiped away the wet patches on her cheeks and turned on her blinker, turning the car around as soon as she could.

She just prayed she could make it to the hospital in time.

 

 

 

14

Corrine pulled into parking lot and into a spot, immediately turning the car off and making her way towards her building. She went inside and walked straight to Sydney and McKenzie’s apartment, completely ignoring hers as she flew past the door. She crossed an arm across her stomach and pounded her fist against the door, knocking on the wood until McKenzie answered, Arlie right behind her.

Immediately, Corrine’s anxiety doubled. McKenzie smelled much stronger than she did when Corrine left, and she couldn’t help but be concerned with the amount of alcohol the girl had consumed. She didn’t know what the news with Sydney would be, but she needed McKenzie to be coherent in case things went south. Sure, Arlie was there, but what good with that do? Corrine barely _knew_ the girl. How she could she trust her if she didn’t know her?

At the very least, she needed to trust that Arlie was the best person to drive, especially when the girl reached down and pulled McKenzie’s keys out of her hand. She shut the door and locked it, gesturing with her head towards the parking lot. She turned and started up the sidewalk, flipping her keys in her hand while McKenzie and Corrine followed close behind.

“She’ll be okay, Corrie,” McKenzie slurred, wrapping her arm around Corrine’s shoulder instead. “Sydney is a tough cookie. She’s made it through some pretty bad shit, she can make it through a little car crash.”

Corrine scoffed, the image of the firefighters cutting Sydney out of the car burning in her mind. “There was nothing ‘little’ about the crash, McKenzie. She was literally _trapped_ in her vehicle. She hit her head hard enough to _knock her out_. They _cut her roof off_. She couldn’t _undo her seatbelt_. How is any of that okay?”

Corrine could hear her voice breaking towards the end of her statement, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She knew that she was panicking again, but she couldn’t make the overwhelming suffocation go away. All she could think about was the time that she had wasted, _especially_ since she had already learned more about her compatibility with Sydney in a few months than she had in several years of being Billie’s partner. She was the one who had originally wanted them to keep their identities a secret, but if she could go back in time, she never would have suggested it.

McKenzie was mumbling something against Corrine’s shoulder, but Corrine couldn’t hear her over the rushing in her ears. She shrugged McKenzie’s arm off her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest, timing her breaths again. It was the only way she could think of to calm herself down. She got into the back of Arlie’s car and leaned her head against the window, letting the rattling of the cool glass slow down her thoughts and fears.

Things went from bad to worse, however, when the girls got stuck in traffic halfway to the hospital. Corrine sat up and glared at the cars around them, her throat tightening. She could hear police sirens blaring down the highway, and she desperately hoped that whomever was involved in the accident was okay. She knew that it was selfish but she didn’t want anyone else to take priority over Sydney’s care, and if _this_ injury was worse, then Sydney would lose precious seconds that could ultimately save her life.

Traffic came to a complete stop a half-mile from the girls’ exit, and it didn’t look like they were going to be moving anytime soon. There was a pickup truck spread across the exit in several pieces, as well as an overturned suburban and a semitruck that was lying on its side. Corrine groaned and pulled her legs up to her chest, putting her head on her knees. They needed to be there _now_ , and they needed to speak to a doctor. She hadn’t spoken about it with the other two girls, but she was going to convince the doctor that she was a part of Sydney’s family one way or another. She wasn’t sure that she could pull off the role of “sister” (the only thing that looked similar between the two of them was their widow’s peaks and their petite ears), but McKenzie looked similar enough that she was hoping she could pull off being an adoptive sibling, if she was questioned.

Corrine hadn’t realized that she had been chewing on her fingernails until she felt something solid hit the top of her head. She looked at McKenzie and Arlie before looking down at her lap, where a translucent orange bottle half-full with rectangular white pills was resting. She picked up the bottle and looked at it in confusion before looking back up at the girls.

“Have you ever taken Xanex before?” Arlie asked, glancing over her shoulder at the still-stopped traffic before looking back at Corrine. Corrine shook her head, and Arlie nodded at the bottle. “Take one bar, then. You don’t know how it will affect you if you’ve never taken one before, but it should make it easier to relax. I know this sucks, but you _need_ to chill out or you’ll just make Sydney worse.”

Corrine hesitated, biting her lip before opening the bottle and pulling out one of the pills. She popped it in her mouth and took the water bottle that McKenzie was holding, wincing as the liquid bypassed the pill and made it dissolve on her tongue. She took another long sip and forced the pill down before handing the water bottle back to McKenzie and slouching down in the seat, tapping her feet impatiently and looking out of the windows as she prayed that the traffic would let up soon.

 

***

 

Traffic did _not_ let up soon. It took almost three hours before the accident was cleared and the girls were able to drive the rest of the way to the hospital. Corrine had ended up taking a _second_ Xanex, her impatience grating on Arlie and McKenzie’s nerves. She wasn’t sure if it was because her adrenaline was so high or if she just didn’t feel Xanex as strongly as other people, but she didn’t feel anything that Arlie warned her about besides a nagging tingling in her fingertips.

Corrine tried to jump out of the car as soon as they passed the front door, but Arlie hit the locks, trapping her inside. Corrine had never seen a car that had the child locks built into the _front_ of the car, but she was incredibly annoyed that Arlie’s car seemed to be the exception. She tried to protest, but Arlie turned on the radio and increased the volume until it successfully drowned out Corrine’s voice even to herself.

Arlie found a spot near the front and pulled in, turning the car off and climbing out with McKenzie before taking the child locks on and letting Corrine out. Corrine glared at her before going around the car, walking as quickly as she could towards the front of hospital. She had no idea where she was supposed to go to find Sydney, but she didn’t have time to guess which building to go to. She needed to find someone to direct her, and she needed to find someone fast.

Fortunately, there was a helpdesk near the front doors, two nurses deeply engrossed in a conversation with the secretary, who was pigeon-typing on her keyboard. She looked like the evil stepmother from _Cinderella_ , dressed in a frilled, high-neck blouse and had her hair piled high into a beehive bun. She had a gaudy gemstone brooch in the base of the bun, and was wearing a large pearl necklace that screamed dollar store merchandise.

The nurses glanced up at Corrine and stepped to the side, but the secretary didn’t seem very interested in providing good customer service. She looked up and raised an eyebrow before turning back to her computer and typing again.

“Uhm, excuse me?” Corrine asked, leaning on the counter and typing her fingers anxiously against the faux marble countertop. She glanced at the nameplate propped up on the end of the counter before looking at the woman again. “Ms. Dewberry? I’m looking for someone. Can you tell me what wing she is in?”

Ms. Dewberry popped her gum, keeping her eyes trained forward. “Name?”

“Corrine McDowell.”

The typing continued before Ms. Dewberry pursed her lips. “No one under that name is here.” She grabbed a pen and wrote something down on a notepad before going back to her clacking.

Arlie put her hands on Corrine’s shoulder and moved her to the side. “She’s stressed. She meant to say we are looking for Sydney Cortazan. Her car crashed into a tree earlier today and we were told that she was being brought here.”

Ms. Dewberry huffed and searched her database again, leaning back in her seat and staring at Corrine in disdain. She popped her gum again before reaching into a drawer beneath her keyboard and pulling out a clipboard with a dirty piece of paper clipped to it. “Familial relation?”

Arlie answered again. “They’re her sisters. I’m her girlfriend.” She pointed her thumb at McKenzie and nodded at Corrine.

Ms. Dewberry was not impressed, her eyes narrowing as she looked Corrine and McKenzie up and down. “Family only. You’ll have to leave and come back during our normal visiting hours.” She scribbled something down before sliding the board over the counter to Corrine. “Family sign in here, fill out Ms. Cortazan’s paperwork here. Evidently no one has claimed her yet. If you had gotten here _earlier_ , then we would have had all of these papers completed and locked away by now.” She tossed a pen onto the board before going back to ignoring the girls.

Arlie made sure that Corrine was good to start the paperwork before she leaned in and kissed McKenzie on the cheek. “Call me when you need to get picked up, okay? We can talk about everything then.”

McKenzie gave Arlie a tight smile and reached down, squeezing her hand. “Okay. I’m sorry, baby. I really am.”

“I know you are. It’s fine.” Arlie kissed McKenzie on the lips before stepping over to Corrine and kissing her on the cheek. “Give that to Sydney for me when she wakes up, okay?”

Corrine barely noticed Arlie leaving as she continued to fill paperwork out, biting her lip and filling in as much as she knew before passing the form over to McKenzie to complete. She waited impatiently, her foot tapping against the base of the counter, for McKenzie to finish the paperwork before turning back to Ms. Dewberry, yanking the clipboard from McKenzie’s hands and shoving it across the countertop. “There. All done.”

Once again, Ms. Dewberry pretended that she didn’t hear Corrine. Corrine started to get angry, her hands balling into fists as she took the form back.  She opened her mouth to chide the woman, but before she could say anything, one of the nurses who had been talking by the desk walked back over and held her hand out for the chart. She looked over it before tucking it under her arm and smiling warmly, reaching out and tapping Corrine’s hand to keep the attention focused on her instead of Ms. Dewberry. “Ms. Cortazan is currently in the operating room, but I will take the both of you to our family waiting room until she can have visitors. You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

Corrine’s heart jumped at the mention of an operation, the nurse’s comment about visitors going right over her head. “Sydney is in the operating room? What for?”

The nurse, who was a pretty brunette with a nametag that said “Ronnie,” held her hand out in the direction of the hallway. “Come on. Let’s go to the waiting room and I will have the doctor come out and update you on her progress as soon as he gets a minute. You will be much more comfortable waiting for news there.”

Corrine didn’t think it was possible for her to _be_ comfortable, but she wasn’t going to argue if it meant that she was going to be kept in the loop. Neither she nor McKenzie should even be behind the front doors, and she wasn’t going to get them thrown out by protesting any of the hospital’s procedures.

It was hard not to protest, however, when the walk to the waiting room felt like it lasted for  years. The girls and the nurse went down to the end of the hall and went up two floors, walking past the labor and delivery ward, the children’s ward, and the x-ray wing before they reached a hallway of rooms. The waiting rooms were distinctive enough, though, that Corrine knew where she was the moment that she arrived. There were windows looking from the rooms into the hallway, and every room had large, black tables and worn olive-green chairs. Each room also had a water cooler and a Keurig machine, a basket of Keurig cups and prepackaged bags of chips and cookies sitting on the cabinet next to the machine.

Ronnie took the girls to a room halfway down the hall. She opened the door and held it open, gesturing into the room with her head. McKenzie and Corrine walked in, but neither of the girls sat down. Ronnie waited for nearly a full minute before clearing her throat. “If there’s anything else that you need, there is a nurses’ station at the end of the hall opposite the stairs. If not, there is coffee and hot chocolate over there, and if you need any sugar or creamer, they are in those cabinets over there.” She waved her hand at the other corner of the room.

Corrine bit her thumbnail and sat down in one of the chairs, her eyes trained on the table. McKenzie thanked Ronnie and shut the door behind her, pulling the blinds down over the windows. She walked over and turned on the Keurig, making herself a cup of coffee and making Corrine a hot chocolate.

“Here. Drink this,” she said, setting it in front of Corrine and sitting down next to her. Corrine looked at it before pushing it away. McKenzie pushed it back. “Corrie, you’re a wreck. You need to have something in your system. I’m surprised you haven’t crashed yet.”

“I’m fine.”

McKenzie got up again and grabbed a bag of chocolate chip cookies. She put that in front of Corrine, as well. “What do you think Sydney would say if she saw you stressing out like this? Corrie, she’s _crazy_ about you. I swear all I’ve heard since you two met was how gorgeous she thinks you are and how much she wishes that you guys had been going on dates instead of just hanging out together.” She opened the cookies and held them out. “Eat.”

Corrine narrowed her eyes at McKenzie before her shoulders dropped in defeat. She took the bag and ate one of the cookies. It felt like chalk on her tongue, but she choked it down before taking a drink of the hot chocolate. She had to admit, whatever flavor McKenzie had picked out (it _definitely_ wasn’t plain hot chocolate) was delicious. She slouched into the seat and drank a bit more, the chocolate eventually calming her racing heart down.

She had almost finished the whole mug when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called, sharing a nervous look with McKenzie before looking back to the door.

A young man with large glasses and slicked back chestnut hair walked into the room, his teal stethoscope sliding off his shoulder and into his coat pocket. He glanced down at the clipboard before looking back at the girls. “Ms. McDowell and Ms. Martin, correct?” The girls nodded. The doctor smiled. “Good. I’m Dr. Hathaway, and I manage the operating wing. Ms. Cortazan was moved to recovery about an hour ago, and now we just have to wait and see. Now if you follow me, I will escort you to the recovery wing—”

“Excuse me,” Corrine interrupted, standing up and putting her hands on the table. “But we haven’t been told _anything_ about Sydney’s condition other than what you just told us. What was the surgery for? Is she going to be all right?”

Dr. Hathaway held the clipboard out in front of him and flipped through the pages. “It looks like Ms. Cortazan has a concussion from her head hit the steering wheel, she has a few cuts that needed stitches across her cheeks, her wrist is badly sprained, and the force of the airbag caused her lung on the left-hand side to collapse. We have reinflated it, and your sister did great, but we will be keeping her in a medically-induced coma for a few more days until we are positive that her lung is expanding correctly on her own.”

“But . . . is she going to be okay?” McKenzie reached out and put her hand over Corrine’s. “Are we allowed to see her?”

Dr. Hathaway shook his head. “Not tonight. We need to let our patient rest after a procedure like this. She may be in a coma, but that is to keep her from moving around and panicking over the breathing tube. If she moves too early, her stitches and the reinflation may fail, and we will have to start from scratch. Now if you’ll follow me, I will show you the way to the recovery wing. We have several rooms with pull-out beds if you would like to stay here until visiting hours, or you are more than welcome to go home and return in the morning.”

Dr. Hathaway turned on his heel and began to walk down the hallway. Corrine and McKenzie followed him, each girl weighing what the doctor said on their minds. Corrine knew that she was going to stay at the hospital until Sydney was all right, but she had no idea what McKenzie was going to do.

Fortunately, it seemed that McKenzie had the same idea as Corrine. She followed her into one of the rooms and helped her undo the bed, putting on the sheets that she found in the closet and lying down on the left side. She rolled onto her back and turned on her phone, texting someone before plugging the device in and pulling the sheets up so that she could sleep.

Corrine, on the other hand, was wired. Her limbs felt heavy and she could barely keep her eyes open, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. Sydney had made it to the hospital, but would she make it through the next few days? She had watched documentaries, she knew what happened in hospitals when things went wrong. One extra drop of whatever medication the nurses were giving her and she could overdose, or someone could accidently kick the breathing machine, or the IV, or anything else, and she could slip into cardiac arrest.

She spent so much time worrying, in fact, that she didn’t notice the way that her mind was slowing down until she had already fallen asleep.

 

 

 

15

_Colors were swirling all around. The sky was pink and orange, the grass shimmered in alternating shades of teal and green, and the animals popped in and out in all colors of the rainbow. She was in the woods, and there was a bell tolling in the distance. She rolled over in the grass, feeling each blade leave dew drops against her skin. It was the perfect weather outside, not too hot with just a slight breeze._

_Sydney rolled onto her side and walked her fingertips along the soil, smiling when she saw a small green lizard dart past into a flowered plant, nearly a dozen white butterflies flittering out of the flowers and into the sunrise._

_She pushed herself off the ground and hummed, kicking her feet at the grass as she walked towards the clear pond only a quarter mile away. The water reflected the sunrise, and the wings of the dragonflies skimming the top of the water sparkled like diamonds. She could see beautiful Koi of all different colors swimming beneath the water, their orange and white scales popping against the dark-green of the moss and foliage below._

_Sydney walked the rest of the way over to the water and sat down on a log, pulling off her shoes and socks and rolling up the hem of her jeans. She put her socks inside her shoes and placed them on the ground behind the log before standing up and walking over to the shoreline. She reached down and swirled her hand into the water, drawing the Koi’s attention towards her. She walked further into the water, her smile growing when the largest of the fish, a black-and-orange one, swam up to her and started to nibble on her fingers._

_“Hey, there, little guy,” she said, waggling her fingers and making kissing noises at the fish as two more swam over to her to investigate. She brushed their fins, giggling when the largest fish nipped at her before swimming in a circle around her and going deeper into the pond. He stopped a few feet away from Sydney before swimming back over, nipping at her again before swimming off. “Oh, do you want me to follow you?”_

_The fish swam off again, so Sydney did exactly that. She kept her eyes trained on the fish. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, putting her hands in front of her and separating the water so that it was easier for her to walk through. The water was getting deeper, and with it, more animals were starting to come out. Up ahead, she could see a blue heron standing on the edge of its nest, and a sleepy little turtle sunbathing on a rock._

_Sydney was so focused on her surroundings that she didn’t realize that the water wasn’t only growing deeper, it was getting more tumultuous, as well. The rapids were splashing against her chest, and the fish around her were disappearing. The brush over the pond was becoming more concentrated, too, casting a shadow over the water. There was something large and dark lurking near the bottom of the pond, put Sydney ignored it, far too interested in the way that her Koi leapt out of the water and swam in an intricate design further into the depth._

_The water had nearly reached Sydney’s chin when she realized that something just wasn’t right. It had grown so dark that she could barely see the fish, glimpses of red peaking through in the rare spots of sunlight. Her legs felt incredibly heavy, and she was far too tired to try and separate the water any longer. “I want to go back now,” she said, her eyelids growing heavy and her knees beginning to bend._

_The fish swam deeper. Sydney groaned and tried to follow, but it was getting harder and harder to move. She felt like she was wading through a pool of mud, and there was something sharp that was pressing against the bottom of her foot. She tried to look down at whatever she had stepped on, but all she could see was darkness._

_She took another few steps before feeling another stab of pain, only this time, it happened in her face and against her ribcage simultaneously. She let out a gasp as her foot became stuck in a tree root, the thick sand beneath it squishing in-between her toes and making her shudder. She tried to step back, but the pond bottom that she had just walked on was no longer there. She began to panic and tried to step forward instead, but that ground was gone, too. The tree root was tightening around her foot, and she couldn’t regain her balance as it pulled her under the water. There was something filling her throat, and she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe, oh, God, she was dying―_

 . . . and then she awoke, and Sydney felt like her car was crashing into the tree all over again.

She sat up with a gasp, coughing wetly and wheezing loudly.  Her throat felt like it was being ripped apart, and her tongue felt overwhelmingly large in her mouth. Her head was pounding, and her entire body ached. She couldn’t help but panic, especially when someone patted her back and moved something stuck to her arm. She could hear a female voice trying to soothe her, but it didn’t work. She pressed her chin against her chest and coughed again, a wad of mucus flying from her mouth and landing on the sheets.

The woman kept trying to rub Sydney’s back, but it was doing more harm than good. Sydney shrugged the woman’s hand away, her eyes streaming as she pitched forward and spewed mucus all over the cheap white blanket that was tucked in around her legs. She closed her eyes and gagged again, more thick, white mucus falling on her lap as she pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead.

Once Sydney had stopped spitting up mucus, the woman resumed patting Sydney’s back. Sydney felt far too worn-out to protest. She tried to close her mouth and swallow, but the feeling of her throat muscles working made her eyes water. She let out a whimper and sat back, keeping her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the pillow.

One Sydney calmed down, it didn’t take her more than a few seconds to realize realized _exactly_ where she was. The thin pillow and scratchy blanket couldn’t be found anywhere other than a hospital. There was a draft in-between her shoulders from her gown, and she heard her heart-rate monitor beeping in time with her pulse. She could smell the bleach that had was used to sanitize the room, and there was an eerie silence that echoed around the halls.

Sydney opened her eyes after several minutes, blinking wearily at a tall African-American woman in bright yellow scrubs who was sitting in the chair next to the bed, staring at Sydney and jotting down notes on a clipboard in her lap. She had an eyebrow raised and was pursing her lips, but she didn’t seem to be too impatient as she cleared her throat and pushed herself off the chair. “All right, Ms. Cortazan, now that you’re awake, we have a few more tests to do, and then your sister can come in and visit you. She’s been driving us all batty the last few days, constantly trailing around asking questions and whatnot.” She closed the door to the room, pulling the blinds shut. “You’ve been quiet for over a week. Let’s keep it that way.”

Sydney ignored the jab, more focused on what the nurse had implied. Maybe Sydney had hit her head harder than she thought, but she hadn’t talked to her twin sister since they were teenagers. Selena was a devout Catholic, and after their parents passed, she blamed Sydney’s sexual preference as the reason why they were brought home before their time. They had had quite the quarrel about it, starting with a discussion over how they wanted the headstones to look that ended with Selena throwing a vase of flowers at Sydney and Sydney destroying a beloved ceramic that they had made together when they were children.

Besides, how did her sister even know that she was here? They weren’t friends on Facebook, she hadn’t given her her phone number or let her know when she moved back into town. She rarely even _spoke_ about her sister to anyone. In fact, the only two people that even knew that she had a sister was McKenzie and her mysterious phone-friend, and neither of them knew about the accident yet, unless the doctors had somehow gotten their numbers from her phone and called them.

Sydney’s confusion must have shown on her face, because the nurse sighed and lowered her clip board again. “Look, I don’t care what family drama you have going on here. The quicker I do your tests, the quicker I can go home. Now take off your gown and say ‘ah’.”

 

***

 

The tests were relatively painless (other than when Nurse Stevens did palpitations on the bruising against her ribs) and soon Sydney was sitting up in her bed, twirling the remote attached to the bed around in her hand anxiously, her eyes darting back and forth between the door and the television. She would never admit it to the nurse, but the idea of seeing her sister again petrified her. She told herself that she hated her for so long, but the truth was, she missed her sister desperately. 

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), it was only a mere ten minutes after the nurse left that there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” Sydney called, pursing her lips and tapping her fingers against the bed as her voice cracked.

The person on the other side of the door hesitated, the doorknob turning but the door remaining shut. Sydney cleared her throat and tried again. “Come in.”

This time, the door opened and a young woman stepped in. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted blue tee-shirt, the ends of her highlighted dark-brown bob brushing her collarbones. Her eyes were strikingly violet (they _had_ to be contacts; Selena’s eyes were naturally gray, like Sydney’s), and she was clenching and unclenching her fist against the side of her leg.

“Uhm, hi, Sydney,” Selena said as she stepped forward, biting her lower lip and reaching up to ruffle the hair at the base of her neck. “How-how are you feeling?”

Sydney felt just as awkward. “Fine, thank you.” She looked down at the sheet and plucked at a loose thread. She pulled it out before looking back at her sister. “It’s been, uhm, a long time.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at one another before Selena looked down, kicking her feet against the linoleum floor. Sydney watched her. “You can sit down if you want,” she offered, waving her hand at the chair near her bed when Selena glanced up.

Selena forced a smile and nodded, walking over and sitting down in the chair with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap. She sat still for a moment before twiddling her fingers, tapping them against one another and twisting a thin silver band on her left ring finger. Sydney stared at the ring, the tight feeling in her throat returning. “So you’re married?”

Selena looked down at the ring, too. “Yes. Six years, now.”

“Oh. Is he . . . religious too?”

“Sort of.”

Sydney waited for Selena to elaborate, but she didn’t continue. Sydney tried again. “So, six  years, huh. That’s pretty impressive. Where did you two meet?”

“Work.”

Could Selena be any more vague? When they were teenagers Selena couldn’t _wait_ to talk about whatever boy she was interested in, and Sydney highly doubted that Selena could change her personality so drastically in adulthood. She let out a breath and shook her head. “Cool story. Glad to be in the loop.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and looked back at the television, trying to tune her attention into the sitcom and away from the elephant in the room.

Selena sat silently for nearly a full five minutes before she leaned forward and pulled the remote out of Sydney’s hand. She turned off the television and took a deep breath before blurting out, “I’m a lesbian, Sydney. I have a wife named Alicia. You have two nieces, and a nephew on the way. Scarlet is five, and Elizabeth turns four next month. Alicia is due in April, but we think Tucker will come closer to the end of March. She teaches history at the high school across the street from our house, and I teach English. She was my cooperating teacher when I was finishing my degree. We have a –”

“You _wha_ ―ah, ow, shouldn’t have done that.” Sydney pressed a hand against her forehead, closing her eyes tightly and berating herself for jumping. She held her breath and counted to ten before blowing out through her mouth and opening her eyes. She dropped her hand back onto the bed, readjusting how she was sitting before looking back at Selena. “What do you mean, you’re a lesbian? Little Miss ‘Your Homosexuality Is Why Our Parents Are Dead’?”

Selena’s cheeks darkened. “I, uh. . . when I said that, I was blaming myself. I had made out with a girl for the first time the same day that mom and dad . . . well, you know, and I just thought . . . ” She trailed off, but Sydney knew exactly what she meant. Selena had blamed their passing on her own urges.

Regardless, Selena’s misplaced anger didn’t excuse her actions. Sydney had been angry and scared, too, but _she_ didn’t blame Selena for their parents’ deaths. The accident happened because their father didn’t look at the weather before he took the kayak out on the river, and their mother hadn’t remembered to take her laced shoes off before jumping out of her own kayak to save her husband. It wasn’t a “punishment” for whom Sydney (and evidently, Selena) loved, or because Sydney wasn’t a good-enough Christian. It was a freak accident that could have happened to anyone, at any time.

Sydney gathered a wad of fabric in her hand and squeezed it tightly. “Selena . . . ” She stopped, sighing and letting her shoulders droop. “It’s been eight years. If you forgive me for not contacting you, I’ll forgive you for not contracting me. Deal?”

The anxiety melted off Selena’s face, and she gave Sydney a genuine smile. “Deal. I’ve missed you, Syd.”

“I’ve missed you, too, ‘lena. Now show me what my nieces look like.”

Selena’s smile grew as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the screen. She went to her pictures and scrolled for a minute before settling on a photograph. She turned her phone around to show Sydney a picture from their wedding before sliding to the next picture, which was of two young girls, one with light-brown hair and one with strawberry-blonde hair, lying on their stomachs side-by-side, their faces propped up by their fists.

“They’re beautiful,” Sydney said, taking the phone out of Selena’s hand and scrolling through more of the pictures. Nearly all were of Scarlet and Elizabeth, but there was several selfies of Selena and her wife.

Selena let Sydney have her fill of images before taking her phone back, locking the screen and putting it under her thigh. She reached out and patted Sydney’s arm, jumping when Sydney let out a hiss of pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching up to the morphine drip next to the bed and hitting a button to release more of the medicine in apology.

It took a minute, but the flood of endorphins and painkillers numbed the throbbing pain to a dull ache. Sydney adjusted herself again, careful not to disturb her ribs as she lied back. She was beginning to feel tired again.

She yawned before looking back at her sister. “Not that I don’t want you here, but why _are_ you here? How did you find out I was hurt?”

Selena furrowed her brows at her, as if the answer should be obvious. “Your girlfriend called me and told me you were in a car accident. When she told me how badly hurt you were I had to come and see you, even if it was just for you to throw me out.”

Now Sydney was even more confused. She may have a concussion and there may be painkillers making their way through her system, but she wasn’t so far out of it that she’d forget something like that. “Girlfriend? What girlfriend?”

“She’s tall, and has red hair. I think her name was . . . Courtney? Or Callie? Or—”

Sydney’s mouth went dry. “Corrie?”

Selena snapped. “Yes! Her! She called me the morning after your accident. I’m not quite sure how she found me, but I’m glad she did. She’s a sweetheart, that one. A little bit shy, maybe, but I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone as genuinely sweet as her.”

Sydney had to agree, but she couldn’t wrap her head around the “girlfriend” part of her sister’s explanation. “Corrie’s not my girlfriend. We’re good friends, but she isn’t interested in me like that.” She could feel her face going red, and she tried to hide it regardless of the fact that the heart monitor showed the way that her heart rate increased.

Selena shook her head. “That’s so not true. I’ve been here a lot the last few days, but Corrie? She hasn’t _left_ your side. She told the doctor what she was your sister so that they’d let her stay outside of visiting hours, but I doubt they bought that. The way she looks at you . . . wow. Sydney, she looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. She’s well on the way to being in love with you if she isn’t already. The only reason she isn’t here now is because I made her go home and get some rest, and she only agreed to it because I told her I’d text her the moment that you were awake and able to see people.”

The heart monitor sounded like it was going to explode, it was beeping so quickly. “And, uhm, did you text her?”

Selena nodded. “Yep. She said she was going to stop by that pastry place you like and get you something to eat, but I’d expect her to get here soon.” She glanced down at her watch, the grin on her face falling. “I have to get going once she’s here, but I’ll try and come back tonight or in the morning, all right? I put my number in your phone already.” She stood up, kissing the top of Sydney’s head. “I need to call Alicia. I’ll be right back, all right?”

Sydney swallowed. “All right.”

Selena ruffled Sydney’s hair and waved before walking out of the room. As soon as she was out of eyesight, Sydney collapsed into the pillows and pressed her hands into her eyes.

She should have stayed asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

16

Corrine pulled into a spot in the front of the bakery parking lot, shutting her car off before reaching into her purse and pulling her phone out of the middle pocket. She didn’t have any new messages, which she supposed was a good thing. She had told Selena that if anything went wrong, either with Sydney’s recovery or with their meeting, to text her immediately, and if there were no messages . . . well, then things must be going fine.

Corrine sighed and put her phone back in her purse, pulling the strap over her shoulder and climbing out of the car. She went inside and made her way towards the front, smiling at Michael as he waved from behind the counter. He reached into the display and pulled out an éclair, holding it out to Corrine as she reached the register.

“How’s Sydney doing?” Michael asked, handing the sweet to Corrine before reaching back down and pulling another éclair out for himself. “Is she healing up all right?”

Corrine nodded, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “As far as I know, everything is going fine. Selena hasn’t texted me, so either things are going well, or Sydney is still asleep. I’m going to the hospital once I leave here, though, so I guess I’ll find out. Thank you again for giving me Selena’s number. I'm really glad I got ahold of her.”

Michael nodded, and Corrine could feel the nerves in her stomach unwinding. It had been Michael, surprisingly, who gave her the idea for the girls to meet. Corrine had been texting her brother and his fiancé about what had happened to Sydney, and Michael had taken the initiative to bring Corrine some treats and caffeinated drinks to keep her going while she waited. Michael’s trips also lead to him seeing Sydney for the first time, and when he had, he gasped and stared before commenting on how eerily similar Sydney looked to one of James’ best friends. He pointed out a few similarities before pulling his phone out and searching for the girl on Facebook.

Corrine had been _stunned_ when she saw the girl’s profile picture. She asked Michael for the number and gathered up the courage to text her, and within six hours she had confirmed that Selena was Sydney’s twin.

The one thing Corrine _was_ worried about, however, was how Sydney would react to what Corrine had done. It was a dead giveaway that she was the one whose car Sydney had mistakenly decorated all those months ago. Sydney had told her that she hadn't spoken about Selena to anyone other than her anonymous friend in _years_ , and here Corrine was, calling up her sister and inviting her back into Sydney's life without her consent.

She bit her lip and looked at Michael, reaching up and scratching the back of her neck uncomfortably as she took the bag of treats he had packed for her. “Maybe you should put a couple of extra butterscotch cookies in there,” she said, looking down into the display case, “you know, in case she's _really_ upset with me.” She put the paper sack back on the counter.

“I doubt she's going to be upset with you, Corrie. Even if things don't go well with Selena, you were only doing what you thought was right. She can't fault you for that.” Michael grabbed four butterscotch cookies and put them in the bag before grabbing a handful of chocolate-coated cherries and orange peels, throwing them in, as well. He pushed the bag back across the counter into Corrine's hand, raising an eyebrow at her until she took it.

Corrine stared at Michael for several seconds before sighing and picking up the bag. She put it in her purse, adjusting it until she was sure that the treats wouldn’t get crushed in transit. “I'll text you guys later and let you know how she's doing. You really are too good to me.”

She gave him a tight smile before turning around and making her way back to the parking lot. She got into her car and started the engine, taking a moment to calm her nerves before she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. She contemplated sending Selena a text to let her know that she was on her way, but she knew that that wasn’t a very good idea. Her anxiety would make driving dangerous enough with her adding texting to the mix, and she wanted to make it alive to Sydney’s bedside.

She picked her flash drive up from the center console and plugged it in, taking in a deep breath and letting  it out slowly as the music from one of her favorite musicals calmed her down. She sang the lyrics under her breath, counting the exits on the highway as she got closer and closer to the hospital.

Corrine got so distracted by her musical, in fact, that she nearly _missed_ her exit altogether. She swerved in front of a pickup truck, raising a hand apologetically when the driver honked at her. She stopped herself from pressing her foot all the way down on the gas, keeping the speed of her car at five above the limit all the way to the hospital parking lot.

She pulled into the first spot she could find near the front door, grabbing the bag of treats from Nevermore Baked Goods and tossing her purse over her shoulder. She went into the hospital and went straight to the front desk, nodding at Ms. Dewberry as she threw the visitors’ clipboard over the counter at Corrine without so much as a blink in acknowledgement. Corrine signed in and slid it back to her.

“Have a good day, Ms. Dewberry,” she said, neither expecting nor receiving a response. She went to the elevator and jumped in, the doors just barely closing as she reached it. She pressed the button for the correct floor and waited, biting her lip when it reached the third level. She stepped out when the doors opened and made her way down to Sydney’s room.

The observation curtain was open, so Corrine slowly stepped over so that she could see into Sydney’s room, her shoulders sagging with relief when she saw Selena and Sydney sitting side-by-side on the bed, laughing and smiling as they talked to one another. Sydney looked exhausted but happy, her grin never leaving her face as she leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder and closed her eyes briefly before groggily sitting back up. Corrine couldn’t see what Selena was saying, but she patted Sydney on the thigh before scooting off the bed. She helped Sydney lie down and covered her up with the blanket before glancing out the window. Corrine tried to step back out of view, but she was too late. Selena looked straight at her before nudging Sydney, pointing at the window.

When Sydney looked up, her eyes wide and her movements jerky, Corrine jumped to the side again. She knew that Sydney had seen her, but her fear of Sydney’s anger at her was back.

Before Corrine could panic too much, however, Selena had stuck her head out of the room and was beckoning Corrine inside. “I have to take my daughter to soccer practice, but I’ll text you later tonight, okay? Now come on in here, Sydney wants to see you before she falls back asleep,” Selena insisted, reaching out and grabbing Corrine’s wrist. She pulled her into the room and pushed her towards Sydney, gesturing to the empty chair next to the bed. 

Corrine slowly walked over to the bed, fully aware of Sydney staring at her as Selena left the room. She was breathing shallowly, trying her hardest not too make any sudden movements and accidently cause Sydney any more stress or pain.

When she started to sit in the chair, however, it became clear that Sydney had other plans. She grabbed Corrine’s hand and, with as much grip as she could muster, she shook her hand as if she was pulling her closer. She squeezed Corrine’s fingers twice before letting go of her hand, using her right arm to balance herself while she used the cast on her left arm to push the corner of the blanket down. “I want you to lay with me,” she slurred, her eyes drifting shut for a moment before they shot open again.

Corrine hesitated, causing Sydney to pout. “Please, Corrie? I miss you. I want you to cuddle with me, like you do when we watch movies at your house. Please? I’ll be good and not tickle you, I promise.” She yawned and rubbed her cheek against her pillow, her eyes closing again before she opened them again slowly. “You make me feel better and keep me from being scared. I need you, Corrie. Please.”

Sydney’s words made Corrine’s heart turn to jelly. There was no way she could deny laying with Sydney after that.

Corrine sighed and reached down, caressing the side of Sydney’s face before slowly climbing onto the bed. Sydney immediately rolled over and wrapped her arm around Corrine’s waist, whimpering as her ribs rubbed against Corrine’s belt. Corrine adjusted her arms, making sure that Sydney was comfortable before pulling her close and stroking her hair. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Sydney, I promise. Now get some sleep. You need to keep resting.” She ran her fingers through Sydney’s hair.

Unsurprisingly, it took less than a minute for Sydney to fall back asleep. Corrine thought about moving back over to the chair and giving Sydney her space, but now that she had the other girl back in her arms, she didn’t think she could let go. She leaned down and pressed a kiss into her hair, moving the hand wrapped around Sydney’s shoulder up to her temple. She stroked the side of her face, using her other arm to pull her closer to her chest.

Corrine hummed and rocked Sydney, pressing her cheek against Sydney’s forehead. She could feel Sydney’s breath on her neck and her heart beating against her waist. She couldn’t remember _ever_ feeling as comfortable and in love as she did holding Sydney. The feeling was overwhelming, and she didn’t ever want it to end.

Sydney let out a tiny snore against Corrine’s neck. Corrine chuckled, the feeling of her breath sending chills down her spine. She kissed the top of her head again, although this time, she kept her lips pressed against Sydney’s hair as she breathed in her scent. “God, Sydney, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’m so crazy in love with you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and holding Sydney tighter.

Suddenly, Sydney shifted, and Corrine went tense. She had thought that Sydney was asleep! She wouldn’t have said anything if she knew that Sydney was conscious.

She held her breath, waiting for Sydney to kick her off the bed, to tell her to keep her pining hands to herself, that her affection was unwelcome. After a minute of waiting, however, it was apparent that Sydney had not woken up, the morphine in her system keeping her comfortable enough in her sleep that slight movements didn’t jostle her.

Corrine sighed in relief and closed her eyes again, leaning back against the pillow. Sydney may feel different after her nap, but for now, she wasn’t angry with Corrine, and that was good enough for her. She knew Sydney was safe, and happy, and she loved her, plain and simple.

She didn’t need anything else.

 

 

 

17

Sydney buried her face into her pillow as she woke up, breathing in the smell of Corrine in the fabric before she winced, her ribs smarting as she tried to roll over onto her back. “Corrie, help me,” she whined, pressing her cast into her side and putting pressure on her ribs as she used her other hand to push herself against the pillow. Once she was upright, she patted the mattress around her legs, trying to figure out where Corrine was lying. “Corrie?”

When there was no response, Sydney opened her eyes, her heart sinking when she realized that she was in the hospital room by herself. She really thought that Corrine had been in the bed with her when she fell asleep, but the morphine drip must have made her more delirious than she thought. If Corrine had really been with her overnight, she would be with her now. Corrine kept her promises, and if she had promised to be there when Sydney woke up, then she would have been there when Sydney woke up, not matter what.

Regardless, Sydney needed someone in the room as soon as possible. She could see how low the liquid the fluid bag attached to her IV was, and the throbbing, desperate want for release made her clench her thighs together and sent her hand between her thighs to stop any liquid from escaping when it felt like she was going to leak. She quickly pulled her hand away grabbed the “help” button that was on the armrest of her bed, hitting it three or four times before putting her hand back where it was before.

It took several minutes before a nurse could get to her, and by the time a full ten minutes had gone by, Sydney had formed a fist with her hand and was rocking against it, whimpering every time the movement made her wrist bump against her abdomen. She wasn’t going to make it much longer if someone didn’t get in here soon.

Another five minutes went by, and Sydney swung her body around on the bed so that her legs were dangling over the side, sitting almost completely on her hand as she tried to breathe through the pain of her ribs and to stop the wetness that she had now felt twice against her thumb.

Fortunately, just as Sydney had forced herself to get up and dragged her IV and stand to the bathroom in the corner of her room, a nurse _finally_ came in. When she saw Sydney, she hurried over to her and helped her into the restroom, apologizing for the delay as she did so.

Several minutes later, when Sydney was lying back down and feeling much more comfortable, the nurse came over to the end of the bed and grabbed Sydney’s chart, flipping the first page back and reading the notes that the previous nurse had taken on Sydney’s condition. Sydney used this time to watch the nurse. Unlike her nurse the previous day, this nurse (“Sara,” according to the badge hanging off her chest pocket), seemed very pleasant and patient. She was nearly as tall as Corrine, and she had her platinum-blonde hair cut in a pixie cut. Her gray scrubs were covered in Doctor Who symbols, Galifreyan words, and images of each of the doctors from Hartnell to Whittaker.

Sara took a pen out of her pocket and scribbled a few notes of her own down before balancing the board against her hipbones. She smiled at Sydney. “All right, Ms. Cortazan, we just need to repeat the tests from yesterday, and then your, ahem, ‘sister’ can come back in. She put up quite a fight when I told her she’d need to leave your side for a couple of hours. She was worried you would be scared waking up in an empty room.” She gave Sydney a pointed look that made it very obvious she had figured out there wasn’t any familial bonds between the girls.

Sydney blushed at what Sara was implying, but she couldn’t deny that what she had said had made her happy, too. So Corrine really _had_ been there with her overnight. She had probably moved out of the bed when Sydney was asleep, but it was enough just knowing that Corrine had really been in the room with her.

Sara  placed the clipboard and her pen on  a tray next to the bed before helping Sydney lie down, peeling the blanket off her legs and pushing Sydney’s hospital gown up to the bottom of her chest. It immediately made Sydney shiver, goosebumps erupting over her exposed skin.

Sara made a few notes on her board before running her hands over Sydney’s stomach, palpating her lower abdomen. “Do you feel any pain when I do this?” Sydney shook her head. Sara nodded and moved her hands up higher, keeping them below Sydney’s injured ribs. “What about here?”

Sydney shook her head again. Sara took her hands away from Sydney’s stomach and wrote something down before fixing Sydney’s gown and covering her legs back up. “The bruising looks like it’s going down well. Your intercostals will be sore for a few more days, but we aren’t limiting your movement. If you start having problems breathing, however, come back in _immediately_ , all right?”

Sydney nodded, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Yes . . . ? I’m sorry, but I’m just a little lost. Am I . . . am I going to be discharged today? I thought I had to stay until my lung was back at full capacity.”

“That’s correct.” Now it was Sara’s turn to look confused. “Did your nurse yesterday not tell you the results of your x-rays? The suture is healing nicely, and your lung is holding as much air as it should. I already called over an antibiotic and a painkiller to your pharmacy on file, so as soon as you sign this form right here,” she pointed to a highlighted line on her paperwork, “you will be free to go.” Sara handed the clipboard to Sydney. Sydney made quick work of signing. Sara signed the form as well before pulling the carbon off the back of the paper and handing it to Sydney. “There are spare clothes for you in the cabinet in the bathroom. They are basic sweat pants and a plain tee-shirt, but it’s better than wearing that gown home.” Sara disconnected the IV and helped Sydney get off the bed.

Sydney nodded. She wished that she could have worn _her_ clothes, but she had already figured out that her work uniform had probably been destroyed during the wreck. She thanked Sara before going into the bathroom and opening up the cabinet under the sink where, sure enough, there were sealed packages of sweatpants and tee-shirts.

Once Sydney was dressed, she exited the bathroom and grabbed her phone, her wallet, and her discharge papers. She folded the paper up and put it in her pocket before turning her phone on. She hadn’t turned it on since she had woken up, and she had to admit, she was excited to check her messages. She needed to talk to the Car Girl and see how she knew Corrine and Selena. She kept running through possible scenarios in her mind, and the only conclusion she could think of didn’t seem logical. There was no way that Corrine and Car Girl were the same people. She talked to both people enough that if they were the same person, she’d recognize a story, or a writing style, or _something_.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a single new message. Disappointment bubbled in her stomach, but she tried not to think about it, especially as she started to walk down the hall towards the waiting room. Corrine had left the curtains open, so Sydney could see everything that she was doing. She kept glancing at her watch and flipping her phone around in her hand, glaring at it as if it had done something that had personally offended her. When she glanced up and saw Sydney through the window, however, she completely lit up.

Sydney couldn’t stop herself: the feelings bubbling up inside her were far large for her to ignore. She met Corrine half way and immediately put her hands on either side of Corrine’s cheeks and pulled her into a kiss.

At first, Corrine didn’t kiss back, and Sydney felt like she was suffocating all over again. She didn’t want to lose Corrine as a friend, at the very least, and she prayed that her overwhelming urge didn’t destroy any chance they had. Sydney panicked and tried to pull away, but Corrine finally raised her hands around Sydney’s shoulders and kissed her back just as passionately.

Sydney felt like she was dissolving into putty, her arms and legs tingling. She moved a hand down to Corrine’s lower back and pulled her closer, darting her tongue out and licking the seam of Corrine’s lips. Corrine granted her access, and soon, Sydney’s heart was racing and the tingling was nearly overwhelming. Her face was starting to feel strange, too, but Sydney ignored it. It made sense that kissing the girl of her dreams would make her feel things physically that she had never felt before.

When Sydney’s knees gave out and she fell into Corrine, however, she quickly realized that she should have been more cautious, and that the strange feelings were warning signs, not feelings of pleasure. The corners of her vision were tinged with black, and her legs felt like they were made of Jell-O. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against Corrine’s shoulder, breathing in and out slowly to try and ease her lightheadedness.

“Come on, Syd, sit down,” Corrine instructed, kissing Sydney on the forehead before pulling her over to the chairs that lined the hallway. She helped Sydney sit down before collapsing in the chair next to her, wrapping her arms around Sydney’s shoulders and pulling her to her side. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Her voice was shaking, and it sounded like she was having a hard time speaking.

Sydney couldn’t help but wonder if Corrine was as nervous as she was. She knew they needed to talk about where they stood, especially after this, but that could wait until they got back to their apartments and Sydney got a little more rest. She was quickly getting more and more exhausted the longer that she stayed seated, especially after the energy she had expelled in that kiss.

After ten minutes or so, Corrine stood up and held her hand out to Sydney. Sydney accepted the help and got up as well. “Come on. The quicker we get out of this hospital, the quicker that we can get you back into your bed. I already texted McKenzie. She and Arlie are going to change your sheets so that you can nap before you eat, or, if you’re hungry, you can eat and then sleep in a clean bed. I had James make a pot of his famous chicken noodle soup for you, so that is in the fridge, and I got you a new heated blanket, since Scepter destroyed yours—”

Sydney cut Corrine off with a quick kiss before pulling her into a hug. “You’re a good friend, Corrie. The best I’ve ever had.”

Corrine kissed Sydney’s cheek. “You’re my best friend, too, Sydney.” She pulled out of the hug and reached down to lace their fingers as they walked out of the hospital.

 

***

 

It was well over two hours before Sydney had the opportunity to go back to sleep. When she had gotten home, McKenzie and Arlie were both so happy to see her home that they kept trying to talk to her. Corrine had stayed by her side, warming her up soup and finding her soft pajamas when she went to take a shower, but McKenzie and Arlie were not concerned about having another person in the house. Sydney was pretty sure that there could have been a family of dwarves living in the house and the girls wouldn’t have noticed, far too distracted by one another whenever Sydney was out of the room.

By the time that Sydney could lay down, she was relaxed from the morphine, but she was feeling wide awake. She waited until McKenzie and Arlie _finally_ left before grabbing Corrine’s hand and pulling her into the bedroom. She pushed her down on the bed and grabbed her laptop before sitting down next to her, immediately moving Corrine’s arm around her shoulder and snuggling into her side.

Unlike at the hospital, Corrine tensed up when Sydney kissed the side of her neck, and she only kept her arm around Sydney’s shoulders for a few minutes before scooting away from Sydney and putting her arm back down at her side. Sydney immediately felt hurt, but she tried not to make her disappointment too obvious. She had thought that their kiss at the hospital meant something, but she must have been wrong. Their kiss must have been the result of Corrine’s relief rather than from any sort of romantic feelings.

Sydney bit her lip and moved away, leaving two feet of space in-between her and Corrine. She could still see the laptop, but she no longer wanted to watch a movie. In fact, she wasn’t sure that she even wanted to be around anyone, at least until she was feeling more in control of her feelings.

She cleared her throat and rolled onto her other side, facing the wall instead of Corrine and the laptop. She could feel Corrine staring at the back of her head, but she didn’t say anything. Sydney stayed quiet, too, counting the cracks in her wall and following the way that a small, tan moth circled around her light switch. At first, it looked like it was moving in a figure-eight, but after a few minutes it switched directions, flying left to right over and over before repeating the same cycle up and down. A second moth was stuck to her doorframe, dangling by one of its feet off the latch. It twitched a few times before going still, the inverted pose too much for its fragile body to handle.

Sydney breathed out through her nose and closed her eyes, grimacing when the muscles around her ribs spasmed. The morphine in her system kept the pain from growing too intense, but the dull burn was almost worse. She tried to lie as still as she possibly could to keep that ache at bay, keeping her eyes shut and keeping her breathing even. Hopefully, with any luck, she’d fall asleep soon. She didn’t want to tell Corrine to leave, but lying two feet away from her with the memory of being in her arms made her desire more. She _wanted_ to know what she had misread. She _wanted_ to hear Corrine say what she really felt about her. She _wanted_ to deal with the disappointment and sadness of unrequited feelings, rather than to deal with the uncertainty of trying to understand Corrine’s actions.

Sydney didn’t realize it at first, but after several minutes of her cheeks feeling wet she realized that she had, at some point, begun to cry. Her timed breathing kept her from sobbing, but her nose was swollen with mucus and her lower lip was burning from where she had bitten it too deep. She turned her head into her pillow and used the cotton to wipe away her tears, but they wouldn’t stop falling, and all she wanted to do was roll over and try to cuddle with Corrine again.

The feeling grew so strong that Sydney decided to take a chance. She rolled over on her side and looked at Corrine, shocked to see that she, too, had been silently crying. She had her hand over her mouth and she was staring at the wall across from the bed, her cheeks shining with tears and her eyes rimmed in red. Sydney moved closer and pushed herself in a sitting position, grimacing again when she felt another strong ache.

“Corrie? What’s wrong?” she asked when she was sitting properly, biting her lip again before leaning forward and wiping away one of Corrine’s tears with the pad of her thumb. Corrine didn’t respond, putting her hand over her mouth and letting out a sob. Sydney held her breath and moved the rest of the way to the girl, wrapping an arm around her stomach and another around her shoulders. She sniffed and tried to stop her own tears, but the morphine was making her emotions much more difficult to control than they normally were. Corrine didn’t have that same excuse.

At first, Corrine didn’t respond, although she hugged Sydney back and allowed her to kiss her temple. Sydney rested her cheek against the top of Corrine’s head and waited.

After several minutes, Corrine reached up and put her hand on Sydney’s cheek, caressing her with her thumb before leaning in and kissing her softly. Sydney kissed her back before pulling back, resting their foreheads together. They sat pressed together for several minutes in silence before Sydney yawned, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hitting her and making her eyes feel heavy. Corrine noticed the yawn and pushed lightly on Sydney’s shoulder, pushing her down onto the bed and pulling her back to her chest. She kissed Sydney’s neck and rubbed her thumb in small circles over Sydney’s stomach. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. We will talk about everything when you wake up.”

Sydney nodded, but her body was feeling far too heavy for her to respond verbally. She laced her fingers with Corrine’s and closed her eyes, letting the darkness take over.

 

 

 

18

By the time that Sydney was ready to talk, almost a full week had gone by since her release from the hospital. She had tried to get Corrine to talk about what was going on between them, or why she had been so upset the night Sydney came home, but Corinne wouldn't utter a word about their relationship before she knew with 100 percent certainty that stress wouldn't hinder Sydney's recovery.

Sydney, on the other hand, continued to push, especially when they were alone together.

“You know, I've barely even taken my morphine today,” she commented as she snuggled against Corrine on the couch, her head pressed against Corrine’s chest and her hand resting beneath the hem of Corrine's shirt. “I'm basically healed.”

Corrine scoffed and shook her head, moving a hand up to comb her fingers through Sydney's hair. “There's a difference between choosing not to take your medicine and actually being okay. It'll be a while before you’re healed.”

Sydney lifted her head up, giving Corrine her best puppy-dog stare. Corrine kissed her forehead and looked away. It was incredibly difficult not to give in when Sydney looked at her like that, but she needed to be strong.

The worst part of her silence, however, was keeping her distance any time Sydney texted her about how disappointed she was that Corrine was keeping secrets from her. Corrine felt like the biggest traitor in the world, accepting Sydney's unhappiness and playing it off like she was still a stranger. She knew it wasn't fair to Sydney, but she couldn't help it. As much as she wouldn't talk about it in real life, she _did_ want to know everything about what the other girl was thinking feeling.

She held Sydney for a few more minutes before tapping her on the shoulder, signaling for the girl to sit up. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she said in explanation as she stood up, grabbing her phone from off the coffee table and shoving it into the front pocket of her jeans.

Sydney gave her a tight-lipped smile. Corrine turned and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. She turned the light on and shut the door, pulling her phone out before sitting on the edge of her tub.

She pulled up her messages with Sydney before biting her lip, the guilt of hiding her identity turning her stomach. She typed out a message and sent it before dropping her head into her hands.

_From: Me (Sent 01.30.2019. 11:46) Hey. How's your morning going? Any progress with your girl?!?!_

Sydney must have gotten her phone out as soon as Corrine walked away, too, because Corrine's phone vibrated not even a full minute later.

_From: Sydney (Received 01.30.2019. 11:47) No :( Every time I try to talk about what's going on between us she shuts down._

Corrine's phone buzzed again. _From: Sydney (Received 01.30.2019. 11:48) I don't think she wants what I want. She will cuddle with me and kiss me one minute then tense up and shut me out the next. I hate it._

Corrine read the messages and sighed, rubbing her fingers against her eyes. She really was messing this up.

She typed out a response and sent it before going over to her sink and splashing water on her face. _From: Me (01.30.2019. 11:53) Have you told her how you feel about her? Maybe she's worried about getting rejected._

Again, Sydney's response was almost immediate. _From: Sydney (01.30.2019. 11:54) She knows._

_Buzz. From: Sydney (01.30.2019. 11:55) I'm pretty sure she's hiding from me now. She's been in the bathroom for like ten minutes and I can hear her messing with her phone. Maybe I should just take a hint and leave._

Corrine's eyes widened, and her heart started beating faster. She hadn't realized she'd been in here long enough for Sydney to panic.

She stared down at her phone before clicking it off, swallowing thickly and standing. She flushed the toilet and turned the water on again for a moment before opening the door and shutting the light off. She walked back to in the living room, her heart hurting as she saw the sad, dejected look on Sydney's face.

Corrine took a deep breath before going back over to the couch and sitting down, pulling Sydney's phone out of her hands and putting it on the arm of the couch. She took one of Sydney’s hands in hers, interlacing their fingers before using her free hand to push Sydney's hair out of her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before sitting back and saying, “I wasn't hiding from you.”

Sydney furrowed her brows in confusion before her eyes widened in realization. “You . . .?” She looked lost, blinking her eyes rapidly and shaking her head before looking back at Corrine, the confusion turning into anger. “You're who I've been texting all this time?”

Corrine swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in her throat, before nodding. “Yes.”

Sydney dropped Corrine’s hands. “Why didn't you tell me? I've told you all my secrets and you've, what, just listened to them, let me make a fool out of myself?” She tried to stand up, the crease in her forehead growing deeper and her jaw tensing as she clenched her teeth. Corrine reached out and pulled her back down onto the couch.

“Please, Sydney, just listen to me,” she pleaded, lacing their fingers again and holding them tightly. “I swear I didn't do this on purpose. Please.”

Sydney gnashed her teeth before relenting, her legs twitching as she fought to stay seated. She yanked her hands out of Corrine's grip and crossed her arms, moving as far away from her as she could. She leaned against the arm  of the couch and pulled her legs under herself so that she was crouched on her feet, her hands dangling between her thighs. Corrine took a breath before she moved over, too, putting another half-foot of space between Sydney and herself.

For several minutes, neither girl spoke. Sydney stared blankly at the wall across from her, and Corrine twiddled her thumbs.

Corrine knew that she should be the one to continue the conversation, but her nerves made her mouth feel like it was glued shut. She moved a hand up to her wrist and pressed her thumbnail into the sensitive skin next to the bone, the pain making her feel more focused. “I didn't know that I was texting you until your accident. Kate called and asked if I knew where you were, and McKenzie gave me your number.” She looked over at Sydney. “I swear, Syd, as soon as I saw my nickname for you pop up with the number I wanted to tell you, but when you came out of your coma . . . I just couldn't do it. I _needed_ to be around you, and I didn't know if you'd still want me around when you realized what the real me is like.”

She let out a breath through her nose and pulled her knees up to her chest, her eyes locked on the carpet as she spoke. “We talked about so much when we thought we were talking to strangers. You know more about me than literally any other person in my life, and I couldn't handle you deciding I wasn't worth it when you put two and two together. If you . . . “ she trailed off, the lump in her throat growing and making it almost impossible for her to speak. She reached up and wiped the tears bubbling up at the corner of her eyes before moving her thumbnail to her ankle. “If you don't want to be with me anymore after everything I've said to you, I understand, but I . . . I love you, Sydney, and I just couldn't lose you knowing you were in that hospital bed. At least now I know you're going to be okay.”

She wiped another tear away but it was of no use: the tears were falling freely over her cheeks and her throat was raw. Sydney didn't say anything, and Corrine couldn't convince herself to look at the girl.

Scepter must have noticed the tension in the room, because she jumped on the sofa between the girls and stretched out, her front paws on Corrine's thigh and her back paws in Sydney's lap.

In the corner of her eye Corrine could see Sydney reach down and scratch the cat's side before speaking. “What made you think you had the right to get Selena involved in your drama? I told you about what happened with her in confidence, something that would _never_ be spoken of again. You were completely out of line, calling her and telling her what happened to me.”

Corrine bit her lip. “I thought it might help you, having someone so close to you there to help you recover.”

Sydney scoffed. “And you thought Selena was the person to do that? You don't know anything about her.” She shook her head, stomping her foot on the ground so hard that Corrine couldn't help but look over at her. “Clearly I don't know anything about you, either. Which one is a lie, huh? The flirty one with big dreams, or the repressed, anxious one who only thinks of herself?”

She huffed out a laugh and pushed herself off the couch. Corrine watched as she stormed over to the door, kicking the wood before turning back in Corrine's direction. “You know, I thought I loved you, too, but I see now that I don't know shit about you, and I can honestly say that I want nothing to do with you. You kept something major from me, betrayed my trust, and let me think that I was safe with you. God, I’ve been such an idiot.” She yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway before sticking her head back through. “Get rid of my number, Corrie, and have a nice life.”

She slammed the door, and just like that, Corrine was alone. She couldn't hold back the sobs anymore and slouched forward, burying her head in her hands. Scepter walked over and jumped onto the back of the couch, putting her front paws on Corrine's upper back and kneading her tense muscles.

Corrine's back began to ache after a few minutes so she switched positions, lying down on the couch and pulling the pillow that Sydney had been using to her chest. She inhaled the minute scent left over from Sydney's perfume. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down, but the tears kept coming no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. She knew that Sydney was right, she _had_ betrayed her confidentiality, but a part of her felt resentful, too. She had been trying to protect her, trying to make sure that she was okay. She hadn't kept the news from Sydney maliciously, no matter how upset with Sydney was with her.

She counted her breaths and pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch. She covered herself with it and curled into the fetal position, desperate to escape reality and go to sleep.

With any luck, all of this was nothing but a bad dream.

 

 

 

19

Sydney stormed into her apartment and slammed the door, letting out a low growl before turning around and kicking the wood. She couldn't remember ever being so angry, her body running hot as she kicked the door again.

“What's gotten your panties in a bunch?” McKenzie asked, coming out of her bedroom and perching on the arm of the couch, crossing her arms over her stomach and raising an eyebrow. “I didn't expect to see you home tonight. Trouble in paradise?”

“Screw Corrine.”

McKenzie's other eyebrow shot up. “First big fight?”

Sydney didn't answer. She turned on her heel and walked over to the couch, collapsing into it in a huff. McKenzie rotated around and put her feet on the cushion. “What are you guys fighting about?”

Sydney glared at McKenzie. “None of your business.”

McKenzie rolled her eyes. It wasn't often that Sydney was in such a strop, but it had happened enough times since the girls had moved in together that she took it in stride. She slid down so that she was sitting next to Sydney, reaching across Sydney's lap and grabbing the remote. She clicked on the television and went to the cooking channel.

Sydney ground her teeth and sank down further into the couch, her eyes narrowed. She jiggled her feet and tried to get absorbed into whatever baking competition McKenzie had turned on, but the longer that she stared at the television, the more empty that she felt, the anger fading away and leaving nothing in its wake. She was still hurt and disappointed, but the enraged. energetic anger that she felt only minutes ago was gone.

She sighed and moved so that she was lying across the couch, her feet propped against the pillows at the far end and her head on McKenzie's lap. McKenzie played with Sydney's hair, twisting it between her fingers and massaging her scalp under her nails. Sydney closed her eyes and counted up and down from ten in her head, keeping her inhalations and exhalations to a pattern.

Sydney had always loved having her hair played with, _especially_ when she was upset, and McKenzie knew that. She let Sydney indulge in her moping for most of an episode, but when Sydney had nearly fallen asleep, McKenzie tapped her on the nose. Sydney rolled over and stared at her, her eyes feeling heavy and her body like jello.

“You ready to talk about it yet?” McKenzie asked, looking down at Sydney over her nose. Her hair fell over her shoulder, hanging down and nearly landing on Sydney's face, tickling her forehead and making her sneeze. McKenzie tilted her head further down and purposely teased Sydney with it before sitting up and flipping her hair over her shoulder. She asked again. “I’ve let you mope. Can we talk now?”

Sydney groaned and tried to roll away, but McKenzie wouldn’t let her, grabbing her by the shoulder and forcing her back onto her back. Sydney glared at her, but McKenzie bopped her nose again before pushing her back into a sitting position.

Sydney leaned her head back against the couch and took McKenzie's hand, drawing designs into her palm. She wanted to be stubborn and not give in to the conversation, but she was too tired to keep fighting. “I think I messed up,” she admitted, closing her eyes for a moment before looking back up at the ceiling.

“Why do you think that?”

Sydney turned her head to look at McKenzie, twisting her mouth up to the side. “You know that girl I've been texting? The one who's car I defaced?”

McKenzie nodded, closing her fingers around Sydney’s hand for a moment before opening them up again. “Yeah, I do. I still think you're lucky you didn't get the cops called on you for that. What about her?”

For a moment, Sydney’s anger came back full force before it turned to stony bitterness. “Apparently, I've been texting Corrine this whole time, and she knew about it. I told her all my deepest, darkest secrets―we swore we were going to stay anonymous so we didn't have to worry about being judged by each other or anyone else that we knew.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “She knew it was me, and she _still_  let me bare my soul to her. I never would have said anything if I knew who I was talking to.”

McKenzie didn't respond. Sydney glanced over at her, surprised by the look of amusement McKenzie was giving her. “What?”

“Syd, I doubt Corrine knew it was you the entire time. She came to me in a panic when no one could get ahold of you because she needed your number. Do you really think she'd waste any time asking about your number if she already have it?”

“I don't know, maybe? It doesn't matter. Even if she didn't know the whole time, she's known the last few weeks, and she didn't say anything about it. She knew it was me and she _still_ let me make a fool out of myself.”

“Well, what did she say when you confronted her? Did she have an excuse?”

Sydney blew out a breath through her nose. “She said she was worried about how it would affect my healing. That it would make things worse.”

McKenzie raised an eyebrow and nodded. “You have to admit, Sydney, she has a point. Didn't the doctor tell you to avoid any added stress for another week, anyway?”

“Well, yeah, but . . . ” Sydney shook her head. “That's not even the worst of it. She called my sister.”

 _That_ caught McKenzie's attention. She sat up in shock. “She talked to Selena? How?”

Sydney shook her head. “I have no idea. That's one of the things I told her, when I didn't know who I was, that I have a sister. How she got _her_ number, though? I can't even begin to guess.”

McKenzie clicked her tongue. “Wow.”

“I woke up in the hospital and _she_ was sitting in my room. I thought I was hallucinating her, until she told me that Corrine had called and told her where I was.”

McKenzie's eyes grew even wider. “You saw Selena in _person_? Wow. Maybe I was wrong about Corrine being cautious about the stress thing. I'd say bringing your sister in is ten-thousand times more stressful than talking to her on the phone would be.”

“Exactly!” Sydney threw her hands up before dropping them to her lap in defeat. “And then she says that she loves me. How can she love me and lie to me at the same time? I don't get it!”

McKenzie reached out and put her hand on Sydney's knee. “Back up. Corrie told you that she loves you?”

“Yeah, when she told me about the phone thing.”

“Did you tell her that you love her back?”

Sydney snorted. “Really? After the bullshit that she pulled? No. I didn’t tell her.” She paused, flashes of their conversation running through her mind. Her face fell. “Well, not exactly.” She stood up and rubbed her arm.

McKenzie got up as well, walking into the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of root beer. She twisted the cap off and took a drink of it before taking it over to Sydney. She held it out to her before going back into the kitchen and grabbing an apple, which she tossed up and down several times before taking a bite. “What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean?”

Sydney shrugged again, clearing her throat. “I told her that I was an idiot for thinking I was in love with her when I obviously don’t know anything about her, and that she needed to delete my number.”

“Sydney. Really? That’s harsh. She may not have been completely honest with you, but I know you better than that. You don’t really want her completely out of your life. Think about it. Long-term, if you two stay together, are the things that you two talked about things that she will find out about you, other than your sister?”

Sydney scratched the back of her neck. “I guess?” McKenzie gave her a pointed stare. Sydney sighed. “Yes, she would know.”

“Okay. Why are you so angry that she knows, then?”

“I just . . . I should be able to tell her these things myself!”

“You did, Sydney! You _did_ tell her yourself!” McKenzie grabbed Sydney’s shoulders and shook her lightly. “Answer me honestly. Do. You. Love. Corrie.”

Sydney held McKenzie’s stare for several seconds before dropping her shoulders in defeat. “Yes.”

“What’s the big deal, then? Did she make a mistake? Yes. Should she have told you as soon as she realized it? Yes. But Sydney, she isn’t solely to blame for what happened. You didn’t tell her it was you she was texting, either. _Both_ of you agreed to keep your identities private.”

Sydney didn’t want to admit it, but McKenzie was right. She couldn’t help but still feel betrayed, though. Sure, Sydney had tried to keep things from Corrine, but Corrine had done the same thing! The anonymous conversations were a two-way street, and they _both_ spilled secrets that they wouldn’t have spilled otherwise.

Sydney’s eyes widened. _Oh_. She was just as much to blame as Corrine was. McKenzie smirked. “That’s what I thought. Get some rest, think about what you’re going to say, then talk to her in the morning.”

Sydney’s eyebrows furrowed. “But . . . shouldn’t I go talk to her now? Make up for what a jerk I was?”

McKenzie nodded, the corner of her lips turning up. “And you need to, but if you jump in without thinking about what you’re going to say, things are just going to get worse. That’s what got you into this situation in the first place.” She leaned forward and kissed Sydney on the cheek before turning and going over to the door, grabbing her messenger bag off the floor and putting it over her shoulder. “Arlie needs me to go let her dogs out. Do you need anything before I go?”

Sydney shook her head. “No.”

“Okay. Your morphine is in the cabinet over the stove, and there’s a few frozen dinners still left in the bottom of the freezer. I should be home in a couple of hours.”

“Okay. See you.”

Sydney watched McKenzie leave before going back over to the couch, dropping down onto it and sprawling across the cushions. She grabbed the remote from where it fell on the floor and pulled up her television guide, scrolling through the pages until she found something that looked agreeable. She decided on a true crime show, groaning when she saw that it was an episode that she had already watched. She grabbed the remote again and shut the television off, tossing it to the loveseat adjacent to her and rolling over to face the back of the couch.

She closed her eyes and tried to get some rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. She knew McKenzie was right, but she didn’t know if she could make it a whole night without making it up to Corrine. She had messed up, badly, and she knew that if she wanted them to work out in the long-term, she needed to take time to construct her apology, but that didn’t make the situation any easier.

She sighed and pulled her knees up closer to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her chin into her sternum. She began to count down from 100, making sure to take a breath in-between each number. It had worked when she was a child, maybe it would work as an adult.

 

***

 

The counting worked so well, in fact, Sydney fell asleep without realizing it, waking up several hours later, after the sun had set. She yawned and stretched out, rolling over and shrieking as she rolled straight off the edge of the couch. She winced as her mostly-healed ribs bounced off the floor, her hip crashing into the corner of the couch leg.

She groaned and pushed herself off the floor, climbing back up onto the couch and nestling into the pillows. She felt around the floor and grabbed the remote from where it had bounced off the loveseat. She flipped the television on before moving up, grabbing her phone off the arm of the couch. She unlocked the screen, her eyes widening when she saw she had seven text messages. There were two messages from Selena, one from McKenzie, one from Kate, and three from Corrine.

She decided to go through the messages from least-threatening to the most-threatening. First up was Kate, and only pertained to the “shifts” that Sydney had “worked” in the last two weeks (Kate, ever the best friend and manager, was splitting her tips with Sydney twice during the week), followed by McKenzie, who just wanted to know if Sydney wanted her to pick up a cookie dough blizzard on her way home from Arlie’s house (she very much did). Selena had sent her a picture of her nieces, as well as an invitation to come over for dinner the next weekend to meet her wife and the kids (Sydney gave Selena a tentative “yes,” but she was going to try and find a way out of the dinner if she had to crash her car again to do so).

She bit her lip before opening up Corrine’s messages. The first one must have come right around the time that Sydney fell asleep, and the last one had been sent only twenty minutes earlier.

_From: Corrine (01.30.2019. 13:08.) I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I know that I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but I can’t honestly say that I regret it. Even if you don’t talk to me ever again, I’m still glad that I at least got a few days with you before you started hating me._

_From: Corrine (01.30.2019. 15:27) I promise I won’t text you after this but I needed to tell you everything I’ve been thinking about for the last couple of hours. I love you. I love your hair, and your eyes, and how you fit perfectly against my shoulder when I hug you. I love how you’re super petite but you always manage to capture the attention of everyone in the room. I love how you always make me feel like I’m a superstar. I love your art. I love how easily you talk to my family. I love everything about you, and I’m so sorry that I destroyed everything between us before we could even start._

_From: Corrine (Received 01.30.2019. 18:59) I'm sorry, I know I said that was my last message, but I just wanted to tell you I have an interview with a marketing firm next Monday. I didn't want you to be nervous about going back to work with me there._

“I don't want you to leave,” Sydney muttered, clicking on Corrine's caller ID photo and looking down at it. The girls had taken the picture together a few weeks earlier, when they were at a festival in the park. Sydney was a flushed, frozen mess, but Corrine looked incredible, her wavy scarlet hair flowing orange and the cream floral clips in her braid bringing out her porcelain skin.

She ran her fingers over the picture before going back to the home screen, startling as another message came through from Corrine.

_From: Corrine (Received 01.30.2019. 19:32.) This will be the last one, I swear, but my brother just stopped by with a bunch of your favorites. I put a bag of them next to your door. I would have just kept them, but I'm going to go with my sister out of town for a few days. I understand you want your space, but when I get back, can we talk about this? Please?_

Sydney's eyes widened, and she rubbed the pad of her thumb in circles against the screen. She wanted to listen to what McKenzie had told her, she really did. She had already lit the flame that was teasing them with destruction; she didn't want to pour any more gasoline on the blaze.

No matter how dangerous talking to Corrine could be, though, a few days away from Sydney would give Corrine time to think, too, and Sydney wasn't sure she wanted that. Who's to say that Corrine wouldn't decide how much happier she was alone, that Sydney wasn't really worth all the stress and heartache she had thrown at her?

Sydney had gotten off the couch and gone to the door before she even registered what she was doing. She pulled on her tennis shoes and her burgundy cardigan, slipping both on and grabbing her house keys from the hook next to the door. Her hands were shaking and there were butterflies in her stomach, but she fought through them. She stepped into the hallway and, sure enough, there was a decadent smell wafting up from a paper sack of treats. Sydney grabbed the bag and looked inside, her mouth beginning to water as she saw her favorites.

She reached in and pulled out a toffee cookie before closing the sack and tucking it under her arm, taking a big bite of her cookie and letting the flavor wash over her taste buds. She didn't want to admit it, but she was so nervous that she didn't think she'd be able to make it through a whole cookie without getting sick to her stomach.

Sydney had to try, though. She couldn't just sit in her house and let life pass her by when she had hurt Corrine so badly, screaming at her for something that wasn't completely her fault. _She_ had been the one to take things too far, the one who walked away in the middle of the conversation, not Corrine.

She took a deep breath and tucked the bag under her arm before walking down the hall. Her legs felt like they weighed ten-thousand pounds, and her stomach was twisted into so many knots that she was almost positive that her intestines would shrivel up and die before the night was through. She adjusted her hold on the bag, moving it so that it was down by her side before lifting up her hand and knocking softly on the door.

Now she just had to wait.

 

 

20

Corrine rolled over in her bed and sighed, burying her face into her pillow and reaching out to pet Scepter, who was curled against her stomach and purring loudly. The kitten had been doing her best to comfort her owner, snuggling against her and rubbing her nose against any bit of exposed skin she could reach.

She rolled over again and pulled her blanket up over her head, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to make herself fall asleep. Magin had called and her and said that she was pushing off their drive until the next morning because Corrine’s nephew wasn’t feeling well, so Corrine didn’t have anything to distract herself with. She had taken several Benadryl, but her anxiety was overpowering the fatigue, and she couldn’t get her mind to stop racing. She couldn’t stop kicking herself for lying to Sydney, for not telling her about the texting sooner.

She groaned and threw the blanket off, letting out a gasp when she accidently pushed Scepter off the bed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said, leaning down and scooping the cat up. She put her on the pillow next to her and kissed her forehead before trying to get comfortable again.

Before Corrine was able to get herself comfortable enough to fall asleep, though, she was startled by a knocking on her front door. She sat up in confusion, glancing at her phone where it sat on the bedside table. Her green battery light was still solid in the top corner, so she didn’t have any new messages. Who could be at her door, this late in the evening?

Corrine slowly got out of bed and slid her feet into her slippers. She grabbed her fluffy baby-blue robe and pulled it on. She went up to her door and looked through the peephole, her eyes widening and her heart racing when she saw Sydney. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, keeping one hand on the knob and the other on the door frame. “Sydney? What are you doing here?”

Sydney bit her lip and looked down, clearing her throat and rubbing the back of her neck before looking up at Corrine through her lashes. “Hey, Corrie,” she said softly, holding Corrine’s gaze for a minute before looking back down at the floor.

Corrine stared at her in confusion before looking down at the paper sack in her hand. _Oh_. Corrine knew that Sydney hated her, but she didn’t think that her disdain went deep enough to reject some of her favorite sweets. Corrine had told James exactly what to bring, and she thought that she had done a good job picking out the best desserts. “What are you doing here?” she asked, leaning her temple against the doorframe. She waved her hand at the bag. “Are the—did I get the wrong desserts?”

“What? Oh.” Sydney looked down at the bag in her hand before looking back at Corrine. She gave her a small smile and shrugged. “No, you got the right ones. Thank you. That was really sweet of you.” Her smile dropped and she glanced over Corrine’s shoulder into the apartment before looking back. “Can . . . can I come in?”

“Uhm . . . yes?” Corrine stepped back and held the door open. Sydney came in and put the paper bag on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch. Corrine eyed her cautiously, pulling her robe tighter and tucking her hair behind her ears. She sat down on the arm of her recliner, crossing her arms over her stomach and balancing her weight on her heels.

For several minutes, neither girl said anything. Corrine bit her lip and tapped her fingers against her biceps. She breathed through her nose as calmly as she could, doing everything she knew how to do to keep her panic at bay, although she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. She had thought that she had more time to figure out how to talk to Sydney without freaking out. She was going to use her weekend away to plan out everything she was going to say. She had already put her phone on “do not disturb” mode (oh, so _that’s_ why she didn’t get any messages), figuring that that would keep her from doing something stupid like calling Sydney and begging her for her forgiveness.

Eventually, Corrine knew that she had to start the conversation. “Look, Sydney, I—”

Sydney spoke at the same time. “I’m really sorry, Corrie—”

Both girls stopped and looking at each other. Sydney gave a nervous giggle, but Corrine’s anxiety was back full force. She clenched her teeth and shook her head, waving her hand in a small circle. “Go ahead,” she said, her voice hoarse and her throat tight as she waited for her heart to break again.

When the heartbreak never came, Corrine felt even more confused by Sydney’s ramblings than she had been before. “I messed up, Corrine, and I’m really, really sorry. You were right not to tell me it was you. I know you were just trying to protect me, so . . . thanks.” She lifted a hand up to her mouth and chewed on her thumbnail, glancing at Corrine before looking down at the floor.

Corrine’s brow furrowed. She slid off the arm and pressed the soles of her shoes into the ground to keep herself from falling. Sydney gave a weak laugh when she slipped, and Corrine could feel her cheeks burn. She straightened herself and sat down in the chair, leaning forward and balancing her elbows on her knees. “I don’t understand.”

Sydney hesitated before scooting farther down on the couch so that her knee was only a few inches away from Corrine’s. She reached down and put her hand on Corrine’s thigh, rubbing her thumb in circles and making Corrine feel more than just a little sick to her stomach. “You were right. I _didn’t_ want to know who I was sharing my secrets with, and that was my problem as much as it was yours. I could have come out at any time and asked who you really were. You . . . you were doing everything right.”

She moved her hand up higher, and Corrine’s heart stopped. She reached down and tried to push her away, but when Sydney laced her fingers with Corrine’s, she couldn’t help but accept the affection. Sydney squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I told you that I never wanted to see you again. I just . . . I know I responded poorly, but Corrine, I don’t want you to go away. I love you,” Corrine lost her ability to breathe, “and I want to be with you, if that’s something that you still want.”

Corrine was too shocked to say anything, so she sat silently for nearly a full minute until Sydney squeezed her hand again. “Corrie? Can . . . will we be okay? Do you still want me, even though I was so awful to you?”

 _That_ caught Corrine’s attention. There was no way that she could lie about something like that. “Of course I still want you, Sydney. I want you all the time.” She lifted Sydney’s hand and kissed it before standing up and moving to sit to Sydney’s right. She leaned against the back of the couch and moved her hand, pulling Sydney closer until Sydney’s knees were hovering over Corrine’s thighs and her hand was resting on Corrine’s stomach. “Do you forgive me for calling your sister?”

Sydney nodded, but the way that her mouth twisted up to the side and how the light in her eyes dimmed told Corrine a different story. Corrine hurried to explain herself. “That first night was a nightmare, but after those first twenty-four hours passed, I couldn't think about anything other than how worried I was about you. I kept rereading our messages from before, and when I read about your sister . . . it just scared me, Syd. My siblings and I have pretty much always been on good terms, but even if we weren't, I'd want to know if something serious had happened to them. I couldn't imagine how your sister would feel if she tried to contact you somewhere down the line and you were gone.”

Sydney nodded again, but she stayed silent, her eyes again trained on the floor. Corrine sighed and adjusted their positions so she was behind Sydney, her hands around her waist and her forehead on the back of Sydney's shoulder.

She kept quiet for several minutes, keeping her breathing in time with Sydney's as the Benadryl she had taken finally kicked in, making it hard for her to stay awake. She tightened her hold around Sydney's waist and turned her head, letting out a few sleepy grunts as she made herself more comfortable.

She had almost fallen asleep completely when Sydney tapped her wrist and turned to kiss her softly. Corrine grumbled and opened her eyes, putting her chin on Sydney's shoulder and looking at her. Sydney kissed her again before standing up, squeezing Corrine's hand and pulling her up, as well. “Come on. Let's go to bed.”

Corrine leaned forward and rested her full body weight against Sydney's side. She really couldn't keep herself awake much longer. “I don't want to go to bed,” she mumbled, her words coming out slurred and her body hunching over in fatigue. “You forgave me. I don't want you to go.”

Sydney wrapped an arm around Corrine's waist and pulled her close before leading her out of the living room. “I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. All of the excitement of today has worn me out, too, and I just want to be cuddle with you.”

“You cuddle with me all the time,” Corrine complained, her actions disagreeing with her words as she moved closer to the other girl. “Besides, we can cuddle on the couch or whatever.”

Sydney shook her head, walking Corrine the rest of the way down the hallway and into the bedroom. “This is different, though. It's my first time cuddling you as my official girlfriend.”

Corrine hummed, butterflies flapping lazily in her stomach. “Oh, so I'm your girlfriend now?”

“Uhm, yeah?” Sydney kissed the side of Corrine's head. “That's what you said back there, right? You want to be with me, and I want to be with you. So, girlfriends.” She pulled back the covers on the bed and pushed Corrine down.

Corrine couldn't keep the grin off her face as she grabbed Sydney's wrist and yanked her down next to her. She wrapped them both in the blanket and moved forward, hugging Sydney and pressing her face into the crook of her neck. “I love you, girlfriend,” she whispered, yawning and kissing Sydney's skin gently.

Sydney moved her hand under Corrine's shirt and onto the small of her back, moving her fingers in slow, relaxing circles that made Corrine's skin tingle. “I love you, too, Corrie. I really, really do.”

Corrine hummed again and kissed the tip of Sydney's nose before rolling over onto her other side, pressing her back to Sydney's chest and moving so their two bodies molded into one. She felt Scepter jump onto the bed at their feet, walking around until she was back at in the cavity of Corrine's stomach. She purred loudly, especially when Sydney moved her hand to scratch the kitten in-between the ears before reaching back up to tangle their fingers together.

Corrine let out a long breath and snuggled into the pillow when Sydney kissed the back of her neck and moved their joined hands up to rest in front of Corrine's heart.

Within a few minutes, Corrine was so relaxed that she had nearly fallen asleep. Her mind spun with memories about the last few months, and her heart felt fuller than it ever had before.

It had been a difficult journey to get where she was, but Corrine wouldn't have it any other way. She had friends, she had a decent-paying job, and she was in the arms of the girl who very well might be the love of her life.

Moving back to her hometown was the best thing she had ever done.

 

 

Epilogue

_Four years later_

“Come on, Corrie, we're going to be late! You know how your mom gets when we aren't on time!” Sydney called, glancing up the staircase that led from the living room to the upper level of their house. She had told Corrine more than twenty minutes ago that she needed to hurry up and finish her hair, but she really should have expected that Corrine was going to take her sweet time, changing her hair and makeup until she deemed it perfect. She did it all the time: before work, during holidays, hell, she was even a half-hour late to their wedding because she wasn't satisfied with how she looked.

Corrine, unsurprisingly, didn't answer Sydney's call. Sydney looked at her watch and groaned, stepping into her ballet flats before climbing the staircase and going up to their room. Last time she checked, Corrine had been in their bathroom, destroying the ozone layer with nearly a full bottle of hairspray. Sydney couldn't stand the smell, but she had to admit that it made her wife's hair look like it had been done by a professional.

When Sydney reached the bathroom, however, she was alarmed to find Corrine sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her pristine makeup painting her cheeks and lashes in muddy streams. She was obviously trying to stay quiet with her tears, covering her mouth with her hand and breathing hard through her nose.

Sydney raced over to her and dropped down to the floor, putting one hand on Corrine's knee and using the other to uncover Corrine's mouth. “What's wrong?” she asked in a panic, interlacing her fingers with Corrine's and squeezing lightly. “Did something happen? Are you hurt? Do we need to―”

“They're good tears, I promise,” Corrine interrupted, letting go of Sydney's hand to grab a wad of toilet tissue. Sydney took it from her and put it under the faucet for a moment before handing it back to Corrine to clean herself up. Corrine ran the tissue over her face a few times before looking down at the black globs, staring at them for a moment before folding the tissue in half and throwing it into the waste basket.

Sydney used the pad of her thumb to get the last few remnants of makeup before pulling Corrine up, hugging her and kissing her cheek. “What's the good news then, sweetheart? Did Carla call you about that promotion? You'll be the best marketing director _La Bella Flor_ has ever had.”

Corrine shook her head. “No, she hasn't called me yet― she said if I don't hear from her by tonight to call her in the morning. That's not my good news, though.”

Sydney tilted her head in confusion. “Is someone we know giving away free puppies? Because, you know, I don't think this is the best time for us to be thinking about a dog―”

“I'm pregnant.”

Sydney froze, her heart stopping. “What? But I thought Dr. Malden said . . . ” She trailed off, shaking her head as she remembered what their fertility doctor had told them nearly a year earlier, after Sydney had suffered her fourth miscarriage. They had talked about switching for their sixth try, but when Dr. Malden ran his tests on Corrine, he came back with the heartbreaking news that Corrine wasn't physically able to grow a viable fetus.

After Dr. Malden broke the news, Corrine and Sydney had decided to take a break from their journeys to be mothers. They just couldn't take the heartbreak anymore, couldn't take the devastation month after month when it didn't happen or, even worse, when it happened and was taken away from them.

Sydney's legs gave out from under her, and she had to sit down on the floor to keep herself from passing out. “When . . . how?”

Corrine sat down on the floor next to Sydney. She took her hand, kissing her knuckles before leaning forward and kissing Sydney lightly on the lips. “I know we agreed to wait, but I read online about a new procedure for women like me. I talked to Dr. Malden about it, and he referred me to another doctor in his practice. She agreed to try it. I didn't want you to know in case it didn't work, but I'm pregnant, Sydney. It _did_ work. We have another shot.”

Sydney's stomach burst with excitement before reality came crashing down. “But . . . Dr. Malden said your body won't accept an embryo. What if we lose another baby, Corrie? We've never even made it past the ninth week. How long do we have to wait until you and our baby are out of the danger zone?”

Tears formed in Corrine's eyes again. Sydney sucked in a breath, doing her best to keep from crying, too. She reached out tentatively and place her hand on Corrine's stomach, shocked to feel that her abdomen was solid. Corrine had always been sensitive about her stomach, so it was very rare that Sydney ever felt it. Now, though, she wished that she had been more observant.

She couldn't help but observe, however, that Corrine's stomach was moving against her hand. That was a kick! “Oh, my God, Corrie, I can feel our baby.” Her tears began to fall, and she couldn't help but surge forward to kiss her wife before dropping down and kissing her stomach, moving her shirt out of the way so she could stare at the barely-there bump in awe. “How far along are you?”

Corrine couldn't hide her smile, either. “Twenty-two weeks. She's due on our anniversary.”

“'She'?! We're having a little girl?” Corrine nodded. Sydney kissed her again, cradling her neck before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” She brushed away Sydney's tears before wiping away her own. “Dr. Malden called me before you came in and told me that our baby girl looks healthy and on-track, which means that even if she's here in a few weeks, she has a good chance of surviving. We're going to be moms, Sydney. We're going to have a baby.”

She smiled down at her stomach, rubbing circles into it with her hand. Sydney watched her, her heart overflowing with love. “We're going to have to agree on a girl name now, you know. All we have are boy names,” she teased, thinking back to the conversations they'd had over the last two years since they had started trying.

Corrine shook her head. “Actually, I know what I want to name her. I was thinking . . . we could name her after your parents. Willa Rae McDowell.”

Sydney's heart finished its transformation to goo. She had never been a fan of their given names, but their middle names (David William and Margot Rae) sounded perfect for their beautiful daughter. Her name would serve as a memory for them, and keep them with her always.

Sydney held Corrine for a few minutes before pulling her up and dragging her into their bedroom.

“Where are you taking me?” Corrine asked, laughing when Sydney walked her over to the edge of their bed and pushed her down onto the comforter before lying down next to her, kissing her deeply and moving her hand to rest on her hip.

“Your parents are going to have to wait a bit longer for our announcement,” Sydney said softly, leaning up to bite Corrine's ear before moving down to her neck. “Do you have any objections?”

The moan that Corrine let out as Sydney slipped her hand down the front of her pants said no, she did not, and Sydney let herself get lost in the moment, cataloguing every breath to her memory.

This was, by far, the happiest day of her life. She had a beautiful wife, a beautiful house, and a beautiful baby girl on the way.

Nothing could be better than this.

 

#


End file.
